Author's Note: Good news for those of you who enjoy this fanfic. I am only working on this fic at the moment. The rest are on hiatus until further notice. My life is too busy right now to keep up with the number of fics I have running so I picked this one to continue working on. I am hoping to finish up Fallon's adventures with the boys in season two of Supernatural by the end of this year. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Thank you for reading. If you have time please leave a review. They help motivate me.
Disclaimer: I own nothing from Supernatural. All rights belong to the writers and creators of the show.
Just once Fallon wished they could get through a car ride without fighting. This time at least it wasn't her and Dean at each other's throats, but Dean and Sam. Actually, Fallon considered it worse when the two brothers fought. Not because it was sad to see to family members who were so close fighting, but because they would try to drag her into it. And right on que, Dean did.
"It's irrational, is what it is," Dean huffed. "Come on, Fallon, tell him."
Fallon sighed. "You can't expect me to come to bat for you on this one, Dean. Considering I have a grave in a cemetery I think it's nice that people would want to honor my memory."
"And anyway, Dean, no one asked you to come," Sam said.
"Why don't we swing by the roadhouse instead?" Dean suggested. "We haven't heard anything on the demon lately. We should be hunting that son of a bitch down."
"That's a good idea," Sam replied. "You should go. Just drop me off, I'll hitch a ride and meet you there tomorrow."
"We'll both meet you there," Fallon said. "I don't feel like hiding in the kitchen until closing time."
Dean snorted. "Right. Stuck with those people, making awkward small talk until you two show up? No thanks."
"Well, then it seems like you've lost," Fallon stated as they pulled into the cemetery. "Just suck it up. I doubt we'll be here long."
The three stepped out of the car. Sam immediately headed for his mother's grave while Dean took off in another direction. Fallon wandered around aimlessly. She looked over the nearby graves admiring some of the flower arrangements the deceased's loved ones had left for them. She remembered driving around to look at all the flowers left on the graves during Memorial Day weekend with her mother, grandmother, and sister. They did it every year.
Unlike some people, cemeteries had never made Fallon feel uncomfortable or freaked out. They were peaceful to her. She and her sister had found ways to have plenty of fun while their mother and grandmother attended the graves. Sometimes they would walk around feeding the unusually fat squirrels. Fallon's favorite thing to do when she was a small child though was to climb the one set of stairs that led up to one section of the cemetery. At the top of the stairs were rows of soldiers' graves. As a child the stairs had seemed almost insurmountable. Fallon also remembered thinking as a child that if she climbed up them at the right time of day she'd find the stairs led to heaven.
Looking around this cemetery she didn't see any unusual landmarks or ornate gravestones, but she felt the same peace she had at her own. At least, until her eyes landed on Dean. He was standing some distance away from her. She could see the tension in his shoulders. She walked over to offer some comfort but paused when she reached his side. He was standing in front of someone's grave. It was a recent burial, but it looked like someone had done overkill on digging out the grave. The grass and flowers around the grave were completely dead, along with a few trees.
"If I was the family of this poor girl I'd be pissed," Fallon commented. "I can't believe no one's done anything about this. Where is the groundskeeper?"
"That's what I'd like to know," Dean muttered and walked off. Fallon shook her head before heading back to Sam.
"You okay?" she asked when she reached him.
He smiled down at her. "I'm fine," Sam said. "Have you seen Dean?"
"Yeah, he went off to talk to the groundskeeper," Fallon replied. "You should see this one girl's grave. Everything around it is dead. Someone should be taking care of it."
"Whose grave was it?" Sam asked curiously.
"Angela Mason," Dean answered coming up to them. "She was a student at the local collage. The funeral was three days ago."
"And?" Sam inquired.
"And?" Dean repeated. "Did you see her grave? Everything dead around it in a perfect circle? You don't think that's a little weird?"
"Well, there's usually some damage when they dig a grave," Fallon said. "I just thought whoever did it went overboard."
"Maybe the groundskeeper went a little agro with the pesticide," Sam suggested.
"I asked him. No pesticide. No chemicals," Dean said. "Nobody can explain it."
"Well, what do you think it is?" Fallon asked.
"I don't know. Unholy ground, maybe?" Dean replied.
"Un…"
"What?" Dean cut Sam off. "If something evil happened there, it could easily poison the ground. Remember, the farm outside of Cedar Rapids?"
"Yeah, bu.."
"Could be the sign of a demonic presence, or the Angela girl's spirit, if it's powerful enough." Fallon and Sam shot each other a look. Dean looked annoyed. "Well, don't get too excited, you might pull something."
"Dean, I don't feel any other presence here," Fallon said. "I know everyone thinks cemeteries are filled with ghosts, but I've never been in a haunted one. I think you're looking for something that's not here. What else is this potential hunt about?"
"What else would it be about?" Dean questioned.
"Forget it," Fallon sighed, not in the mood to fight. "Let's just look into this."
"The girl's dad works in town," Dean told them. "He's a professor at the school." He headed back towards the Impala.
"How long should we humor this?" Fallon questioned.
"Let's just see how far he's going to take this," Sam replied and they both followed after Dean.
Fallon entered the father's office before the boys could knock on the door. She glanced around, but didn't see anything unusual. More importantly, she didn't feel the presence of another spirit. She turned around to face the boys as the professor let them in and shook her head to let them know there wasn't another ghost in the room. Sam made small talk with Angela's father while Dean scoped out the room. He pulled a book off a shelf.
"This is an unusual book," Dean commented.
"It's ancient Greek," the professor explained. "I teach a course."
"So, a car accident," Dean said changing the subject, "That's horrible."
"Angie was only a mile away from home when…"
"It's got to be hard," Dean said. "Losing someone like that. Sometimes it's like they're still around. Almost like you can still sense their presence. You ever feel anything like that?"
"I do, as a matter of fact," the professor replied.
"That's perfectly normal, Dr. Mason," Sam assured him. Shortly after they left.
"Could someone please explain to me why that was necessary," Fallon said as they got into the Impala.
"Well, I guess you haven't been paying attention in the last year, Fallon, but it's basic hunting 101," Dean replied. "We always interview those closest to the suspected spirit."
"Well, I don't suspect any spirit," Fallon said as they pulled up to their motel. It had only been a block away from the college. "I've gotten no indication that there's another ghost around."
"Well, maybe it's something else," Dean said.
"I don't think so Dean," Sam joined in.
"I'm telling you guys, there's something going on here," Dean insisted. "We just haven't found it yet."
"Dean, so far you've got a patch of dead grass and nothing," Sam commented dryly.
"Well something turned that grave into unholy ground!" Dean exclaimed.
"According to you," Fallon replied. "Why can't it just be some weird, natural occurrence for once?"
"Fallon's right," Sam said. "There's no reason for it to be unholy ground. Angela Mason was a nice girl who died in a car crash. That's not exactly vengeful spirit material. You heard her father."
"Yeah, well, maybe Daddy doesn't know everything there is to know about his little angel, huh?" Dean snapped.
"That's enough, Dean!" Fallon said. "We shouldn't have even got to check out that poor man. There's no case here. Let's go."
"You just want to bail?" Dean replied. "Without even figuring out what's going on?"
"I think I know what's going on here," Sam said. "It's the only reason I went along with you this far. Fallon too."
"What are you talking about?" Dean asked.
"This is about Mom's grave," Sam said.
"That's got nothing to do with it," Dean scoffed.
"You wouldn't step within a hundred yards of it," Sam pointed out. "Look, maybe you're imagining a hunt when there isn't one so you don't have to think about Mom. Or Dad." Dean glowered at him. Sam sighed. "You wanna take another swing? Go ahead, if it'll make you feel better."
"No one is taking a swing at anyone," Fallon cut in stepping between the boys. "Let's just wrap up the night here and leave tomorrow." Dean glanced at the both of them before grabbing his coat.
"Dean, where are you going?" Sam asked.
"I'm going for a drink," Dean replied. "Alone."
"Want me to keep an eye on him?" Fallon asked once they heard the car pull away.
"No. That'll just piss him off if he sees you," Sam sighed. "We'll see what he's like when he comes back."
"Hopefully not drunk off his ass," Fallon muttered.
Fallon had gotten bored in the room with Sam. He had immediately plopped down in front of the T.V. but she wasn't interested in anything that was on. After an hour of horrible television shows she had gone for a walk around the building but no one had been out and about for her to people watch. After the third trip around the motel she finally came to a stop outside of their room. She noticed with some interest that a child had at some point drawn some flowers and rainbows with chalk. She smiled brightly when she saw a piece of blue chalk had been left behind.
She grabbed the piece of chalk and drew a few smiley faces on the sidewalk. She added some flowers to the previously drawn bouquet. She wrote her name in print and as her signature. She stood back and admired her work. She glanced around once more to see if anyone had been watching, but the parking lot was empty.
Fallon, quickly made a hopscotch square. Lacking a rock she used the piece of chalk. It landed on eight. She didn't care how childish the game was. She took it seriously. So seriously she didn't notice Dean pull back up to the building.
"Hopscotch?" he said as he got out of the car. "Really?"
Fallon glanced up from her game, putting her foot down on the square with the chalk. She scowled when her foot sent the piece of chalk rolling. "You just made me lose."
Dean laughed. "Did you draw all of this?"
"No. Some kid left the chalk behind," Fallon replied. "I just added to it."
"Yeah, well, it's time to stop messing around," Dean replied. "Let's go inside." She followed him into the hotel room. When they stepped in the T.V. was still on, but it was turned off suspiciously quick as they entered the room. Fallon noticed Sam looked a little flushed.
"Hey," he greeted guiltily.
Dean raised his eyebrows and glanced between Sam and the T.V. "Awkward."
"Really Sam?" Fallon sighed. "At least you waited until I left."
"Well, I wasn't going to…" Sam sighed before turning his attention pointedly to his brother. "Where the hell were you?"
"Working my imaginary case," Dean replied.
"Yeah? And?" Sam questioned.
"Well, you were right. I didn't find much," Dean replied seriously before his expression turned smug. "Yeah, except, Angela's boyfriend died last night. Slit his own throat. But, you know, that's normal. Uh, let's see, what else? Oh, he was seeing Angela everywhere before he died. But you know, I'm sure that's just me transferring my own feelings."
"Okay, I get it," Sam sighed. "Maybe there is something going on here."
"Maybe?!" Dean exclaimed. "I know how to do my job, despite what you might think."
"Let's just get back to the hunt," Fallon cut in. "We need to check out this guy's apartment."
"I just came from there," Dean told them. "Pile of dead plants, just like the cemetery. Hell, dead goldfish too."
"Aww. Poor little guy," Fallon cried.
"So you think it's unholy ground?" Sam questioned as Dean rolled his eyes at Fallon's comment.
"Maybe," Dean answered. "I'm still not getting that powerful angry spirit vibe from Angela."
"There's no other ghost in town besides me," Fallon said for what felt like the millionth time in the past 24 hours.
Dean pulled a garishly pink book out of his jacket. "I've been reading this," he said.
"You stole the girl's diary?" Sam said.
"That's sacrilegious!" Fallon cried horrified. "You can't read someone's diary! It's full of their most private thoughts and feelings! Their dreams! Their greatest fears and hopes!"
"You want to settle down there?" Dean replied. "It's not like I stole your diary."
Fallon snorted. "Like I ever had a diary," she said scathingly. "Only losers actually keep a diary. Especially past middle school. My life was way to interesting to fit inside some stupid book. Girls who keep diaries are just trying to lie to themselves that their lives are actually interesting when in fact an ant's life is more interesting than theirs."
"Wow, sometimes I swear you walked right out of 'Mean Girls'," Dean whistled.
"Anyway," Sam cut in giving Fallon a look, "did you learn anything from Angela's diary?"
"Just that she seems a little too nice," Dean replied.
"So what do you want to do?" Sam asked.
"Keep digging," Dean replied. "We need to talk to more of her friends."
"Got any names?" Sam asked.
Dean smiled broadly. "Are you kidding me? I have her bestest friend in the whole wide world."
"So who do you want to start with?" Sam asked. "I'm sure you've read it already."
"I say we start with her good old buddy, Neil," Dean replied.
The next day they found the address to Neil's house and knocked on his door. "Can I help you?" he asked.
"We're grief counselors from the local college," Sam told him. "We wanted to check in with those closest to Angela. Her death was so unexpected. We realize it may be hard to handle."
Neil gave them a funny look. "I didn't realize the college employed grief counselors."
"Well, you know the drill. You talk, we listen," Dean said hurriedly. "Or maybe throw in a little therapeutic collage, whatever jumpstarts the healing."
"I'm pretty sure collages are only used when it's children's trauma, Dean," Fallon commented.
"Well, I think I'm okay, thanks," Neil tried to brush them off.
"You heard what happened to Matt Harrison, right?" Sam asked. Neil nodded. "We just wanted to make sure you were okay. Grief can make people do crazy things."
"Really crazy things," Fallon said. "I've seen it happen. My Uncle Alfonzo had his cat stuffed. Not all that abnormal, except for the fact that he takes it on vacations with him." She laughed at Dean's face.
"Look, I'm sorry about what happened to him," Neil said. "I am. But if Matt killed himself it wasn't because of grief."
"No? Then why?" Sam asked.
"Guilt," Fallon answered for him.
"It was guilt," Neil confirmed. "Angela's death was Matt's fault and he knew it."
"How was Matt responsible?" Sam asked.
"Well, she really loved the guy, but the night of the accident she walked in on him with another girl," Neil replied.
"I know that feeling," Fallon sighed. "Not pleasant."
"She was really torn up, that's why she crashed the car," Neil explained. "Look, I gotta get ready for work, so… thanks for the concern, but seriously, I'll be okay."
The three of them walked away from the house. "Okay, what is up with your Uncle Alfonzo?" Dean asked. "You're always saying crazy stuff about him."
"I have some weird relatives," Fallon replied. "I mean it's bound to happen in a big family."
"Can we get back to the case please," Sam asked.
"The vengeful spirit theory is starting to make a little more sense," Dean said. "I mean, hell hath no fury…"
"Except that I don't feel another spirit," Fallon pointed out.
"You haven't always noticed another ghost around," Sam said. "Maybe this girl's spirit isn't strong enough for you to pick up."
"But it was strong enough to leave a circle of dead plants in the cemetery?" Fallon questioned.
"Well, assuming it is a ghost, now that she got her revenge on Matt, do you think it's over?" Sam asked.
"Well, there's one way to be sure," Dean replied. "We burn the bones."
"I think you're missing a fine detail there, Dean," Fallon said.
"What's that?" Dean asked.
"Angela's only been dead for a week," Fallon said.
"So?"
"So there's not gonna be any bones," Sam told him. "There's gonna be a ripe, rotting body in the coffin."
"Since when are you afraid to get dirty?" Dean mocked.
"This is so wrong," Fallon complained as she watched the boys clear dirt off Angela's coffin.
"You've seen us do this a hundred times," Dean said. "Hell, you've helped."
"Yeah, for people who have been dead for years and years!" Hope cried.
"Yeah, well, at least this doesn't happen often," Sam huffed and they pulled the coffin up out of the hole.
Dean motioned for Sam to open it. "Ladies first."
"I can't look," Fallon moaned turning away from the coffin. She heard the coffin lid open, but there was nothing after that. No movement or the sound of flames crackling. "What's wrong?" Dean placed his hands on each side of her waist and spun her around to face the coffin. She braced herself to see the dead body but then blinked, her eyes opening wide. "Where's Angela?"
"Now that's the million dollar question," Dean replied unamused. He shook his head. "They buried the body four days ago."
"There's no body in that coffin," Fallon stated.
"Yeah, Fallon, we've noticed," Dean replied.
"Then why am I the only one freaking out over here!" Fallon cried.
"Hey, look!" Sam said. He was moving his flashlight over the inside lid of the coffin.
"Is it an Egyptian curse?" Fallon asked nervously. "Are we dealing with a mummy?"
"I've seen these kind of symbols before," Dean said after inspecting them. He looked furious as he storms away from the grave.
"Dean, we can't just leave. We have to…" but he was already out of hearing. Sam sighed.
"Don't worry. I've got it," Fallon told him. She raised her arms up and levitated the coffin over the whole before carefully lowering it back down. Then, with a snap of her fingers the dirt piled back on top of it.
"Why did we manually dig this up if you could do that?" Sam asked annoyed.
"You didn't ask for help," Fallon replied as they began to rush after Dean. They were both surprised that Dean hadn't just left them at the cemetery.
"Care to explain the rush?" Sam asked as they got in.
"Those symbols in the coffin," Dean replied as he pulled out of the cemetery, "I saw them in Angela's dad's office."
"So you think he raised her from the dead?" Sam asked.
"He's looking like a pretty good suspect to me," Dean replied. He sped through town to the man's house. He left Sam and Fallon in the dust as he stormed up the sidewalk to the front door and started pounding on it.
"Dean, take it easy, okay?" Sam urged.
Dr. Mason opened the door. "You're Angie's friends, right?" he said.
"We need to talk," Dean replied bluntly.
"Dean," Fallon scolded, but his expression didn't soften.
"Well, then, come in," Dr. Mason waved them through the door.
Dean immediately set in on him. "You teach Ancient Greek. Tell me," Dean said unfolding a piece of paper he'd copied the symbols they'd seen at the cemetery on, "what are these?"
Dr. Mason shook his head. "I don't understand. You said this had something to do with Angela." Fallon glanced over the man. He looked tired and sick from grief, yes, but not lost in it. He was missing his daughter definitely, but Fallon felt sure he had done nothing to try and bring her back.
"We shouldn't be here," Fallon said. "He didn't do anything."
Dean ignored her and kept his attention on the professor. "Humor me."
"They're part of an ancient Greek divination ritual," Dr. Mason explained.
"Used for necromancy, right?" Dean pushed.
"That's right," Dr. Mason confirmed.
"See, before we came over here we stopped by the library and did a little homework ourselves," Dean said. "Apparently, they used rituals like this one for communicating with the dead. Even bringing corpses back to life. Full-on zombie action."
"Yes," Dr. Mason said. "I mean, according to the legends. Now, what's all this about?"
"I think you know," Dean replied.
"Dean," Sam said. Fallon could tell from the look on his face that he agreed with her. Dean was looking at the wrong person.
But Dean was not about to stop. "Look, I get it okay? There are people that I would give anything to see again, but what gives you the right?!"
"Dean, stop!" Fallon urged. "It's not him who…"
"What are you talking about?" Dr. Mason asked confused.
Fallon was reaching out to place a calming hand on Dean's shoulder when he burst out, "What's dead should stay dead!" She pulled her hand to her side quickly, his words like a slap. She had known when she started working with Sam and Dean that the latter had felt that way about her. Though he had been sympathetic to her situation he had wanted her to move on by herself or burn her bones.
But over time she had thought they had grown closer. They argued still, but lately those fights were just for entertainment. Sometimes she even picked a fight with him for fun. Fallon thought they had finally become friends. But after hearing that declaration she realized she had been wrong. Dean still resented her presence. She felt devastated at the thought that he only tolerated her presence because she was useful. She began to see all of their recent interactions in a new light. She was so busy cataloging this revelation that she almost missed the fact that Dean and Sam were leaving. She only noticed when Dr. Mason reached through her to grab the phone she was standing in front of.
She followed Sam and Dean out but stayed at a distance behind them. She could hear they were fighting but she wasn't paying attention to what the fight was about. She assumed it was related to the case. Fallon could suddenly care less about the case. She had started following Sam and Dean around because they were the only people who could see and interact with her. After a year of loneliness she was willing to do anything if it meant she had someone to talk to. But quickly, she had built a genuine friendship with Sam. Her reason for hanging around the boys stopped being about filling up the hole inside her carved out by her year of isolation and instead became about enjoying herself with her friends. That's how she viewed them.
Fallon was sure that Sam also saw her as a friend, but she knew now that Dean never could. As much as the boys made her life after death bearable, she couldn't force her presence on someone who felt so strongly against her own existence. She began to debate what her next step would be when she felt a tug on her arm. She glanced up to see Dean.
"We have to go, Fallon," he said. "The cops will be here any minute."
"They can't see me," Fallon replied woodenly.
Dean gave her a funny look. "Yeah, well, they can see Sam and me just fine."
"Maybe you should finish the case without me," Fallon said.
"Why?" Dean asked.
"You guys, let's go!" Sam cried from beside the Impala. "You can continue your conversation when we get back to the motel."
Dean looked back and Fallon. "You heard him," he said grabbing her hand and pulling her along. Fallon phased her hand out of his grip, but followed behind him. She'd finish the case she decided. And then she would leave.
Back at the motel room they were trying to find a way to kill a zombie. Well, Dean and Sam were. Fallon was aimlessly perusing through a book, but she wasn't taking anything in. She was trying to decide if she would tell the boys goodbye before leaving or if she would just disappear. She was leaning towards the latter.
"We can't just waste it with a head shot?" Dean sighed.
"Dude, you've been watching way too many Romero flicks," Sam replied.
"You're telling me there's no lore on how to smoke 'em?" Dean said.
"No, Dean, I'm telling you there's too much!" Sam exclaimed. "I mean, there's a hundred different legends on the walking dead, but they all have different methods for killing them. Some say setting them on fire, uh, one said feeding their hearts to wild dogs. That's my personal favorite. I mean, who knows what's real and what's myth."
"Is there anything they have in common?" Dean asked.
"A few said silver might work," Sam sighed.
"Silver's a start," Dean said. "Now we just have to find Angela."
"And how are we going to do that?" Sam asked.
"We figure out who brought her back," Dean replied.
"Any ideas?"
"I think if it's not her dad it might be that guy, Neil," Dean said.
"Neil?" Sam questioned.
"Yep," Dean replied pulling out Angela's diary and flipping it open to a marked off page. "Neil's a real shoulder to cry on, he so understands what I've been through with Matt.' There's more like that in here. It's got unrequited duckie love written all over it."
"Yeah, but that doesn't mean he brought her back from the dead," Sam pointed out.
"Did I mention he's Professor Mason's TA?" Dean added smugly. "Has access to all the same books."
"Let's follow our lead," Sam said. The boys walked out of the motel room but returned about two minutes later.
"Uh… Fallon?" Dean said. "We've got a suspect."
"Then you better go check him out," Fallon replied not putting her book down.
Sam crossed the room and took it off her. "Fallon, are you okay?" he asked.
"I'm fine," Fallon told him.
"Are you sure?" Sam asked. "Because…"
"Normally you're miss chatty Cathy, but you've barely said a word in two hours," Dean stated.
"Dean!" Sam cried.
"It's fine, Sam," Fallon said forcing a smile. "I'm just not sure about this whole zombie thing."
"You said you didn't sense another ghost," Dean said.
"Not a ghost, but I think we're dealing with a mummy," Fallon said. She didn't really. She just wanted to get the boys' focus off of her so she could disappear more easily.
"I'm fairly certain mummies were an Ancient Egyptian thing, not an Ancient Greek one," Sam pointed out. "I'm also pretty sure you know that." Fallon did. She had been a history major.
"Yeah, well, if it was a zombie shouldn't it have eaten Matt's brain?" Fallon questioned. "Or be turning other people into zombies. Both boys laughed.
"That's only in the movies, Fallon" Dean chuckled.
"Oh," Fallon said. "Well, how was I supposed to know?"
"You weren't," Sam told her. "Now let's get going. Angela may not be able to make more zombies but she can still kill people."
"Yeah, and we need you with us in case she does attack anyone," Dean said. "You can blast her across the room."
Fallon let them into Neil's house when their suspect didn't answer his doorbell. Together the three started walking down a dark hallway in the house.
"Hello? Neil?" Dean called out. "It's your grief counselors! We've come to hug!"
"Dean," Fallon sighed, "could you try and take this seriously? There's a zombie on the loose. What if she hears you?"
"I'm not worried about it," Dean replied pulling a gun out of his jacket pocket.
"Silver bullets?" Sam inquired.
"Yeah, enough to make her rattle like a change purse," Dean said.
"If you were a good shot you'd only have to use one," Fallon muttered under her breath. The further they moved into the home the more certain they became the Neil was the whack job who'd brought Angela back from the dead. A few dead plants beside a closed door confirmed it. Sam opened the door revealing a set of stairs that led down to a basement. Fallon went first in case Angela attacked but the basement was empty.
"Well, it looks like a zombie pen to me," Dean commented.
"An empty one," Sam pointed out. "You think Angela's going after somebody?"
"Nah, I think she went out to rent beaches," Dean replied sarcastically.
"Look, smartass, she might kill someone," Sam snapped. "We gotta find her."
"Yeah, alright," Dean sighed. "She clipped Matt because he was cheating, right?"
"Yeah?"
"The only person a girl hates more than the person who cheated on her is the person that person cheated on them with," Fallon said. "Trust me. I know."
"Well, does her diary mention who the other girl was?" Sam asked.
"No," Dean replied. "But when I talked to Angela's roommate she was really broken up over Matt's death. I mean, like, really broken up."
"Okay," Fallon sighed. "Let's go save this slutty bitch's life." She teleported out of the basement and back to the Impala.
Dean gave shot her a look in the rearview mirror as he slid into the car. "Who cheated on you?" he asked.
"Can this conversation wait until later?" Sam said. "We've got a zombie on the loose."
"Well, don't you want to know?" Dean asked.
"He already knows, Dean," Fallon snapped. "Start driving."
They booked it to Angela's old apartment, but not before she did.
"Why are we always one step behind?" Fallon groaned as she blasted open the door. They barreled towards the sound of two people fighting and saw Angela was about to stab her roommate with some scissors. Dean raised his gun and blasted a few bullets into Angela. Angela screamed before rushing out an open window.
Fallon followed after her but Angela was faster. Fallon could have teleported to wherever it was she was running off too but without a way to kill her there would be no point. She gave up the chase. With an aggravated sigh she turned around and nearly collided with Dean.
"Sorry," he gasped, panting for breath.
"Don't worry about it," Fallon told him.
"Did you get her?" Sam asked joining them.
"No," Dean replied. "That dead chick can run."
"So what now?" Sam asked.
"Well, we know who brought her back to life," Fallon said. "I think it's time we have a chat with Neil."
"Alright, and while we're on our way why don't you two see if you can find a way to kill her," Dean suggested as they got back in the car.
"The silver bullets did something, right?" Sam inquired.
"Yeah, something, but not enough," Dean huffed. "What else have you got?"
"I read something about nailing the undead back in their grave beds?" Fallon replied.
"Yeah. Yeah, I read that too!" Sam said. "It's probably where the whole vampire staking lore came from."
"Seriously?" Dean asked.
"Well, we could always try feeding her heart to wild dogs," Fallon said. "That would make Sam happy."
"Hilarious," Sam replied before turning to Dean. "I don't really see another option here, Dean."
"How the hell are we going to get Angela back to the cemetery?" Dean asked.
"No idea," Sam replied.
"I don't suppose reasoning with her would work?" Fallon suggested hopefully.
"Would it work for you?" Dean asked. Fallon tensed. Dean nodded his head. "Exactly."
"Let's just see what Neil has to say," Sam said as they pulled up to his house.
As it turned out Neil wasn't at his home. Fallon convinced the boys to drive to the college. She thought he probably had an office there and after some looking around she was proven right. The three stormed into his office. Neil's eyes widened in surprise.
"What are you guys doing here?" he asked.
"You know, I've heard of people doing some pretty desperate things to get laid, but you take the cake," Dean commented.
"Who are you guys?" Neil asked.
"You might want to ask Angela that question," Dean replied coolly.
"What?" Neil questioned.
"We know what you did," Sam told him. "The ritual. Everything."
"You're crazy," Neil scoffed.
"We're the crazy ones?" Fallon said. "You're the one who brought some chick back from the dead."
"When someone's gone they should stay gone!" Dean cried. "You don't mess with that kind of stuff." Fallon winced and backed up away from Dean. For a moment she'd forgotten what he had said earlier. But hearing it again now confirmed that her leaving after this case would be for the best. She backed up a few more steps until she hit the closet door. She was so lost in her own thoughts she almost missed the shuffling sound that came from inside it. She took a step away from the door.
"Dean," she whispered cocking her head towards the door. Dean nodded his head before he turned back to Neil, who he'd been trying to convince to give up Angela's location.
"Listen, it doesn't really matter where she is," he said. "There's only one way to stop her. We've got to perform another ritual over her grave to reverse the one that you did. We're going to need some black root, some, some scar weed, some candles… It's very complicated, but it'll get the job done. She'll be dead again in a couple hours. I think you should come with us." He paused but Neil didn't move. "I'm serious, Neil. Leave with us right now."
"No," Neil shook his head. Fallon didn't stick around for the rest. She teleported to the cemetery and went straight for Angela's grave. She raised her hands to waist level with her palms down to the ground. Concentrating, she slowly flipped her hands over and raised them up to her shoulders. The ground covering Angela's coffin cracked and raised. As the coffin rose higher to the surface, the dirt began to break apart and become fine as sand. It rose up in a mound and then broke apart until finally the grave was open. Fallon flicked her wrists quickly and the coffin lid opened.
"Nice work," Sam praised coming up to join her.
"That was fast," Fallon commented.
"Yeah, well, Dean drove," Sam joked.
"Well that explains it," Fallon replied forcing a smile. "Do you think she'll come?"
"I hope so," Dean said opening the coffin. "Fallon, you want to light the candles."
"I thought you just said that as part of the ploy to get her here," Fallon said pulling the candles out of the duffel bag Sam had brought. She snapped her fingers and the wicks caught. Dean opened his mouth to reply when a rustling noise nearby caught their attention. Sam pulled a gun out and walked slowly towards the sound. Fallon watched anxiously as he walked away from then.
Suddenly, Fallon saw a figure circling around Sam only to start coming up behind him. "Sam, watch out!" she called. Sam spun around and pointed the gun straight at Angela.
"Wait!" Angela pleaded. "It's not what you think. I didn't ask to be brought back. But it's still me. I'm still a person. Please." Sam didn't hesitate. He shot her in the head before booking it back towards the open grave. Angela caught him though and knocked him to the ground. Fallon forced herself to stay still. She had to wait for the right moment.
Another gunshot went off. Dean began to fire at Angela forcing her off Sam and to her feet. She stumbled back closer to the open grave. Fallon shoved her arms out in front of her, the force she created pushed Angela back into the grave where she landed inside her coffin. Dean grabbed a metal stake off the ground and dived in after her, plunging it in Angela's chest before she could recover.
Fallon was about to sigh in relief when she heard Dean mutter, "What's dead should stay dead." She stared numbly down into the hole as Dean climbed out. As soon as he cleared the open grave she closed the lid of the coffin and refilled in the grave. She heard the boys talking as they started to walk back to the Impala. She stayed where she was. She planned to teleport away when they were out of sight.
"Fallon, what are you doing?" Dean asked startling her into turning around. "We're leaving."
"I'll catch up," she lied. "I just need some recovery time."
"You can't recover while we're driving away?" Dean questioned.
Sam was looking at her intently. "Dean, go get the car started," he ordered. "We'll be right there."
"Alright," Dean agreed giving Fallon a weird look before walking back off.
"You're planning on taking off," Sam said.
"That's not…"
"And I think I know why," Sam continued not letting her get a word in. "It's what Dean just said. About dead things staying dead." Fallon tensed. "Correct me if I'm wrong.
"Yeah, well, why should I stick around if I make him that uncomfortable," Fallon replied.
"Because he wasn't talking about you, Fallon," Sam said. "It has something to do with what happened to our dad. I just don't know what. But it certainly has nothing to do with you. So you can come with me willingly or I'll make you."
"And how were you planning to that exactly?" Fallon huffed crossing her arms.
Sam smiled brilliantly. "Like this," he replied picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder.
"Sam!" she screeched squirming in his grasp. It was all for show. She could have easily gotten free just by phasing through him. But it was more fun to just be two normal friends. Sam carried her back to the car like that.
Dean raised his eyebrows when he saw them. "I thought your hand was broken," Dean commented.
"It's not like Fallon's heavy to lift," Sam replied putting her back on her feet.
"True," Dean agreed before looking at Fallon. "You over whatever strange mood you're in?"
"Let's just get out of here," Fallon replied slipping into the backseat.
They drove out of town as the sun started to rise. Fallon dazed off into space as the turned onto the highway. It had to be hours later when she felt the car turning off the highway. She expected them to be getting off at an exit for gas and a bathroom break, but when she looked up they were on the shoulder of the highway. She opened her mouth to say something when Dean suddenly got out of the car and sat down on the hood. She and Sam shot each other concerned looks before both getting out of the car and standing next to him on either side.
"Dean, what is it?" Sam asked softly.
"I'm sorry," Dean said.
"For what?" Sam asked surprised, and Fallon knew why. Dean rarely apologized for anything.
"The way I've been acting," Dean replied. "And for Dad. I mean, he was your dad too. And it's my fault he's gone."
"Dean, that is not true," Fallon said stepping closer to him.
"What are you talking about?" Sam asked, just as confused as she was.
"I know you've been thinking it," Dean said. "So have I. Doesn't take a genius to figure it out. Back at the hospital, I made a full recovery. It was a miracle. And five minutes later Dad's dead and the Colt's gone."
"Dean."
"You can't tell me there's not a connection," Dean stated. "I don't know how the demon was involved. I don't know how the whole thing went down exactly. But Dad's dead because of me. And that much I do know."
"Dean, we don't know that for sure," Fallon said.
"Fallon's right, Dean," Sam said. "We have no idea that's what happened.
"Sam," Dean said, his voice cracking as he began to cry, "you and Dad… you're the most important people in my life. And now… I never should've come back. It wasn't natural. And look what's come of it. I was dead and I should have stayed dead. You wanted to know how I was feeling. Well, that's it." He paused and swallowed heavily. "So tell me. What could you possibly say to make that alright?"
Suddenly, Dean's actions and words made perfect sense to her. It had never been about her. Fallon glanced up at Dean and saw a single tear steaking down his face. She glanced at Sam who looked just as upset as Dean. She hesitated a moment, waiting for Sam to do something, but he seemed at a loss.
Slowly, she reached out and took Dean's hand in hers. He glanced down at her for a moment, and she thought he would pull away, but instead he adjusted their hands so that he held hers. She leaned in closer, placing her head on his shoulder. She felt the deep grief he felt and a single tear slid down her own cheek.