Author's Note: First, I would like to apologize for the long delay in posting this chapter. The holiday season kept me busy and I decided to wait until the season ended to get back to this chapter. Second, I would like to apologize for how awful this chapter is. Definitely not my best work. It suffered from the holiday frustration and a desire to just move on from it. I promise the next chapter will be better. Please stick with me after this. I hope you at least like some things about this chapter and thank you for reading.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Supernatural. The script and characters belong to the writer's and creators of the show. Only Fallon is mine.

Fallon teleported back to the motel they'd been staying at for a month and saw Dean stepping out of the Impala with two cups of coffee.

"Hey," she greeted.

"Hey," Dean said stopping as he waited for her to walk over to him. "Did you find her?"

"No," Fallon replied. "And that's the last time I go back to that place, Dean. It's disturbing."

"Demons are disturbing," Dean said. "And don't you think the fact that you always teleport to the same place when looking for Ava means something."

"I did until right around the tenth time I searched the place," Fallon said.

"And you're sure you're not missing something?" Dean questioned. "No hidden space? Even a clue to where she might actually be?"

"No!" Fallon cried. "It's just an empty ghost town. Dean, I've looked everywhere. She's not there. Please, Dean, please I don't want to go back there."

"Okay. Okay," Dean assured her. "You don't have to go back. I know if she was there you would have found her."

Fallon nodded. "You'll back me up when Sam tries to push the issue?"

"You bet I will," Dean said wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

"Thank you," Fallon said following Dean to the room. She was still trying to shake the sense of foreboding off. Every time she'd been in that ghost town, she'd felt the same dread fill her, and it took a long time for the feeling to fade. Every time she was there, she got the feeling that something bad was going to happen. She just didn't know when.

She was also trying to push down a small feeling of guilt. She had told both boys a million times that she had looked all throughout the ghost town for Ava, but she honestly couldn't be sure she had. Every time she'd been there not long after she started her search, she'd get the feeling she was being watched. She spent the whole time looking over her shoulder. And she always saw this one child out of the corner of her eye. She never got a clear view of them. And every time she had tried to speak with them, they had ignored her.

Fallon would go back to searching the town each time, but after a while she'd here the child's voice tell her to look over here, and she ended up chasing it throughout the town. Still, after a month of searching the town, she was sure there couldn't have been any place left unchecked. Either way, she had no intention of ever going back there. As the motel room door opened, she braced herself for an argument with Sam. Sam was just hanging up his cell phone when they got there.

"What'd Ellen have to say?" Dean asked.

"Oh, she's got nothing," Sam replied. "Me, I've been checking every database I can think of, federal, state, and local. No one's heard anything about Ava. She just… into thin air, you know? Fallon, any luck."

"No," Fallon answered. "It's just an empty town. And I'm not going back there."

Sam opened his mouth to argue, but Dean jumped in. "She's searched the place every day for a month, Sam. She knows what she's doing. She doesn't need to go back."

"Yeah, you're right," Sam conceded. "You find anything?"

"No, sorry," Dean replied.

"Ellen did have one thing," Sam said after a minute.

"What's that?" Fallon asked.

"A hotel in Cornwall, Connecticut," Sam said. "Two freak accidents in the past three weeks."

"Yeah?" Dean said. "What's that have to do with Ava?"

"It's a job," Sam said. "I mean, a lady drowned in the bathtub, then a few days ago a guy falls down the stairs, head turns a complete one-eighty."

"Ugh!" Fallon groaned wincing.

"Agreed," Sam said. "And not exactly normal. Look, I don't know, it might be nothing, but I told Ellen we'd think about checking it out."

"You did?" Dean and Fallon asked.

"Yeah," Sam said. "Why do you both sound so surprised?"

"Well, it's just, you know, not the patented Sam Winchester way, is it?" Dean replied.

"What way is that?" Sam huffed.

"I just figured after Ava there'd be more angst and droopy music and staring out the rainy windows, and…" He paused at the looks Sam and Fallon shot him. "I'll shut up now."

"I think that would be wise," Fallon said.

"Look," Sam sighed, "I'm the one who told her to go back home. Now her fiancé's dead and some demon has taken her off to God knows where. But we've been looking for a month now, and we've got nothing. So, I'm not giving up on her, but I'm not going to let other people die either. We've got to save as many people as we can."

"Wow," Dean commented. "That attitude is just way too healthy for me, and I'm officially uncomfortable now. Thank you."

"Hilarious," Fallon said dryly as Sam laughed.

"You know I am," Dean teased shoving her shoulder slightly, before turning back to Sam. "Call Ellen. Tell her we'll take the case.

Fallon raised her eyebrows as she stepped out of the Impala and stared up at the huge inn. It was gorgeous. She had always dreamed of living in a place like this. But even from here she could feel the bad energy radiating from the building. She had a feeling this was going to be a difficult case.

"This is sweet," Dean commented as he got out of the car. "I never get to work jobs like this."

"Like what?" Sam asked.

"Old school haunted houses, you know?" Dean replied. "Fog, and secret passageways… sissy British accents. Might even run into Fred and Daphne while we're inside. Mmm. Daphne. Love her."

"You know she's not real, right?" Fallon asked giving him a look.

"She is in my fantasies," Dean replied.

"Ugh, I did not need to know that," Fallon cried while Dean laughed.

"I agree with Fallon on that," Sam said looking just as disgusted as Fallon. They stepped up onto the porch and were about to enter the motel when Sam stopped them. Fallon turned and saw him inspecting an urn on the porch.

"Sam?" she questioned.

"I'm not so sure haunted's the problem," he said.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked.

"You see this pattern here?" Sam said holding the urn out to Dean and Fallon. A symbol was carved into it with five points. "That's a quincunx, a five-spot."

"Care to explain?" Fallon questioned.

"It's used for hoodoo spell work, right?" Dean said.

"Right," Sam said. "You fill this thing with blood weed and you've got a powerful charm to ward off enemies."

"Nothing's warding me off," Fallon commented.

"There's no blood weed in the urn," Dean told her. "And I don't think there's any hoodoo going on here. Don't you think this place is a little too, uh, white meat for hoodoo?"

"Maybe," Sam replied shrugging.

"Well, we'll figure it out soon enough," Fallon said. "Let's get a room." They entered the inn and shortly after were greeted by a harried looking woman.

"May I help you?" she asked.

"Hi, yeah, I'd like a room for a couple of nights," Dean said.

"Well, um, congratulations, you could be some of our final guests," the woman said awkwardly.

"Sounds vaguely ominous," Dean commented lightly.

"No, I'm sorry, I mean we're closing at the end of the month," she rushed out before glancing both boys over. "Well, let me guess. You guys are here antiquing?" Fallon made a face as she raised her eyebrows, but Dean seemed okay to play along with her.

"How'd you know?" he asked.

"Oh, you just look the type," the woman commented.

"Antiquers have a look?" Fallon questioned. Sam subtly shrugged his shoulders. Dean was starting to look uncomfortable, but the woman who ran the place didn't know it.

"So, uh, king-sized bed?" she asked. Fallon's jaw dropped as she realized what the woman meant and started laughing.

"What?" Sam said dismayed. "No, uh, no we're…we're … two singles. We're just brothers."

"Oh!" the woman cried blushing. "Oh, I'm so sorry."

"What'd you mean that we look the type?" Dean asked disgruntled. The woman started to say something, but Sam cut her off.

"You know, speaking of antiques, you have a really, really interesting urn on the front porch," he told her. "Where did you get that?"

"Oh, I have no idea," the woman said relieved to be let off the hook. "It's been there forever." She handed Dean the room key. "You'll be staying in room 237." She glanced over their shoulders and made a beckoning motion with her hand. "Sherwin, could you show these gentlemen to their room?"

An old man stepped forward and grabbed their luggage. "Let me guess," he said. "Antiquers?" Sam and Dean both made faces and Fallon started laughing again. As they started climbing the stairs Sherwin began to drag the duffel bag.

"I could give you a hand with that bag," Dean said.

"I got it," Sherwin brushed him off.

"Okay," Dean said.

"So, the hotel's closing up, huh?" Sam commented.

"Yep," Sherwin said. "Miss. Susan tried to make a go of it, but the guests just don't come like they used to. Still, it's a damn shame."

"Oh yeah?" Sam questioned.

"It may not look it anymore, but this place was a palace," Sherwin stated. "Two different vice-presidents have laid their heads on our pillows. My parents worked here, I practically grew up here. Gonna miss it." He came to a stop and turned to face them. "Here's your room." He slipped the lock into the door and opened it for them. Sam and Fallon slipped by him into the room. They began to settle into the room.

"What the…" Dean commented staring at a decayed wedding dress tacked up on the wall.

"What?" Sam asked as he began to shift through papers.

"That's normal," Dean stated sarcastically, motioning towards the dress. "Why the hell would anyone stay here? I'm amazed they kept in business this long."

"It is a little creepy," Fallon agreed.

"Alright, victim number one, Joan Edison, forty-three years old, a realtor handling the sale of the hotel," Sam said all business. "And victim number two was Larry Williams, moving some stuff out to Goodwill."

"Well, there's a connection," Dean said.

"Yeah, both we're involved in shutting this place down," Fallon said.

"Maybe someone here doesn't want to leave, and they're using hoodoo to fight back," Sam suggested.

"I'm still leaning towards a haunting," Fallon said. "There's another spirit besides me here."

"That's not uncommon for this type of place," Sam said. "I think the culprit this time has to be human though."

"So who do you think the witch doctor is, then?" Dean asked. "That Susan lady?"

"No, doesn't seem likely," Sam replied. "I mean, she's the one selling."

"The creepy old guy?" Fallon suggested referring to the bell-man.

"I don't know," Sam said. "Maybe."

"Of course, the most troubling question is why do these people assume we're gay?" Dean questioned.

"Well, you are kinda butch," Sam commented. "Probably think you're overcompensating."

"Right," Dean huffed.

"Dean, why does it matter what they think?" Fallon asked. "You know which sex you prefer."

"Guess you're right," he said. "Alright, what's first course of action?"

"Let's do a quick scout of the building and see if we find any clues," Sam said. The three of them began to wander the halls. After a few minutes they came across another urn. Sam picked it up and inspected it. He then held it out for Fallon and Dean to see. "More hoodoo."

"What do you think is in that room?" Dean asked nodding towards a door with a sign on it that said "Private."

"Dunno," Sam replied.

"One way to find out," Dean said raising a fist to knock on the door.

"Put your hand down," Fallon ordered placing a hand on his wrist. "I'll check out the room, you two continue looking out here for something that'll give us a lead."

"Okay," Dean agreed. "Meet you back at the room."

Sam and Dean began to continue down the hall. Fallon turned and phased through the door. Immediately, she felt a sense of dismay fill her. She stared in horror at the sight in front of her eyes. Row upon row of old dolls covered one wall of the room. This scene had shown up in one of her nightmares once. She shuddered and moved forward into the room. A quick scan of the room revealed nothing, but then a doll house caught her attention. The doll house was a replica of the hotel. She moved closer and kneeled, so she could see the inside of it.

Her eyebrows rose at the scene playing out inside. At the bottom of the doll house staircase lay a male doll with its head twisted around.

"Okay," she said to herself. "Maybe it is hoodoo." Suddenly, she heard footsteps from behind her and saw Susan and a little girl come out of the open doorway she'd been about to check out. Susan saw the doll in the staircase.

"Tyler, why did you break the doll?" Susan asked.

"I didn't break it," Tyler replied. "I found it like that."

"So, Maggie did it?" the mother asked sounding annoyed.

"No, neither of us did it," Tyler said. "Grandma would get mad if we broke 'em." Fallon teleported back to room 237 to wait for the boys. After an hour they finally did.

"Hey, did you find anything?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," Fallon replied. "So that private room lead to the family's living quarters. They have a dollhouse that is the exact replica of this inn, and inside the dollhouse lying at the bottom of the stairs is a doll with its head twisted around."

"Like our second victim," Sam said.

"Exactly," Fallon replied. "While I was there Susan and her daughter came into the room. She mentioned a grandmother, although I don't know if she's still alive."

"She is," Dean said. "An employee we spoke with mentioned her. She said the grandmother isn't doing well."

"That's a shame," Fallon said.

"Sure, if she's not the one using hoodoo," Dean replied.

"You think she's the culprit?" Fallon asked surprised.

"Well, dolls are used in all kinds of voodoo and hoodoo," Sam said.

"There were an awful lot of dolls in that room," Fallon admitted.

"Maybe we found our witch doctor," Dean said. "Alright, I'll see what I can go dig up on boomin' Granny. You go get online, check old obits, freak accidents, that sort of thing. See if she's whacked anybody before."

"Right," Sam agreed.

"Don't go surfing porn," Dean said. "That's not the kind of whacking I mean."

"You're disgusting," Fallon said following him out of the room.

"You're coming with me?" Dean asked.

"Why not?" Fallon said. "There's only one laptop to use for research. Might as well just tag you."

"Lucky me," Dean said placing an arm around her waist as they walked down the stairs.

"Well, that was a bust," Fallon sighed as the inn came back into view.

"No kidding," Dean said. "This family certainly managed to keep all their skeletons in the closet."

"All those hours researching and the most scandalous thing we could find was a divorce," Fallon said. "They must literally be the world's most perfect family."

"You don't consider your own perfect?" Dean asked amused.

"You've heard me tell stories about my family, right?" Fallon replied. "If people looked into our family history they'd probably come after us with pitchforks and torches."

Dean laughed. "You do seem to have some crazy relatives."

"Crazy's putting it lightly," Fallon commented. "I haven't even told you half…" She paused as they came onto the property and she saw an ambulance parked out front. Two paramedics came out of the house carrying someone in a body bag. She glanced at Dean and the two quickly rushed inside. Susan was standing in the entry way, looking lost.

"What happened?" Dean asked.

"Oh, the maid went to turn down the sheets and he was just… hanging there," she answered.

"That's awful," Dean said. "He was a guest?"

"He worked for the company that bought the place," Susan said absentmindedly.

"Hmm," Dean hummed sharing a meaningful look with Fallon.

"I don't understand," Susan sighed, her shoulders slumped. She looked as if she were caving in on herself.

"What?" Dean asked concerned.

"Had a lot of bad luck around here," Susan said. "Look, if you'd like to check out, I'll give you a full refund."

"No thanks. I don't scare that easy," Dean assured her. He and Fallon started to head back for the room. Fallon waited until they were a landing up before speaking.

"Do you think Sam may know more?"

"Guess we'll find out," Dean said and the two picked up their pace. They both burst through the room door before quickly closing it behind them. "There's been another one. Some guy just hung himself in his room."

"Yeah," Sam answered darkly. "I saw."

"We've got to figure this out, and fast," Dean continued. "What'd you find out about Granny?"

"You're bossy," Sam said randomly. Fallon and Dean shot each other confused looks.

"What?" Dean exclaimed surprised.

"You're bossy," Sam repeated amused. "And short."

"Uh, Dean," Fallon said pointing at several empty bottles of liquor.

"Are you drunk?!" Dean cried.

"Yeah," Sam laughed. "So? Stupid."

"Dude, what are you thinking? We're working a case," Dean scolded.

Suddenly, Sam became tearful. "That guy who hung himself. I couldn't save him."

"What are you talking about?" Dean said. "You didn't know. You couldn't have done anything."

"That's an excuse, Dean," Sam cried. "I should have found a way to save him. I should have saved Ava, too."

"Sam, what happened to Ava and this man was not your fault," Fallon said reassuringly.

"She's right," Dean said. "You can't save everyone. Even you said that."

"No, Dean, you don't understand, alright?" Sam cried pounding the table beside him. "The more people I save, the more I can change!"

"Change what?" Dean asked shooting a hopeful glance at Fallon, hoping she had the answer. Fallon shrugged and shook her head. She had no idea what had Sam so worked up.

"My destiny, Dean!" Sam cried.

"Oh boy," Fallon muttered before turning away and started pick up the empty liquor bottles. She would let Dean handle this one. As she cleaned up, Dean struggled to get Sam into bed. Sam didn't seem to want to calm down. Fallon tried to ignore the drunk conversation until she heard Sam ask Dean to promise to kill him if he ever went dark side. She whipped around at that.

"Sam," Dean replied dismissively as he got Sam into bed.

"Dean!" Sam cried. "Dad told you to do it, you have to."

"Yeah, well Dad's an ass!" Dean shouted unexpectedly. "He never should have said anything. I mean, you don't do that, you don't, you don't lay that kind of crap on your kids."

"No, he was right to say it!" Sam exclaimed. "Who knows what I might become? Even now, everyone around me dies!"

"Pretty sure that has more to do with your employment, Sammy. Not you," Fallon said.

Sam shook his head, ignoring her. "Dean, you're the only one who can do it," he pleaded. "Promise."

"Don't ask that of me," Dean begged as Fallon shook her head at him.\

"Dean, please," Sam said. "You have to promise me." Fallon shook her head again, but Dean caved.

"I promise," he said. Fallon slammed her hand against the wall, causing Dean to flinch. After another moment Sam fell asleep and she advanced on Dean.

"How could you promise him that, you moron?!" she cried shoving him back a step.

"Fallon…"

"Don't Fallon me!" she cried. "How could you promise him that?"

"Fallon, he's drunk," Dean said. "He won't even remember."

"You don't know that for sure!" Fallon cried.

"You saw all the liquor bottles," Dean said. "I think there's a pretty good chance he won't remember."

"Dean…"

"What did you want me to do!" Dean cried. "I had to promise him to get him to calm down."

"Not that," Fallon replied. "And we both know it's not a promise you can keep."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dean asked slumping in the chair Sam had just been sitting in.

"It means you can't kill him," Fallon said. "Even if he ever does go dark side you would never be able to bring yourself to kill him."

"I need a freaking drink," Dean sighed standing up.

"Where are you going?" Fallon asked.

"To the bar," Dean replied and then turned to face her. "You wanna come?"

Fallon shook her head. "I'm going to stay here with him and make sure he doesn't choke on his own vomit."

"Probably a good idea," Dean said before leaving. Fallon sighed and glanced over at Sam. She really hoped he wouldn't remember that promise in the morning.

Fallon had picked up the new book Sam had bought for her and was well on her way through it by late in the morning when Sam woke up groaning. She laughed and glanced over to see Sam struggling to sit up.

"How do you feel there, Sammy?" she teased. "Regretting your trip to boozeville?" Her teasing smile turned into a look of concern when Sam turned from pale to translucent. "Sam?" He dodged past her and into the bathroom falling hard on his knees in front of the toilet. Fallon cringed when she heard his vomit hit the water and splat against the inside walls of the toilet bowl. She put the book down and walked up behind him, rubbing a hand soothingly over his back as he continued to vomit. After a moment the vomiting came to an end.

"You okay?" she asked.

"No," Sam groaned.

Fallon forced down a smile. "Anything I can do for you?"

"Yeah," Sam huffed. "Not to sound like a dick because I appreciate you trying to comfort me, but could you stop with the back rubbing and back up a bit?"

Fallon teleported back to the chair she'd been sitting in. "This far enough away?"

"Perfect," Sam moaned and then started vomiting. Fallon tried to go back to reading, but it was surprisingly difficult to concentrate with Sam vomiting a few feet away from her. She gave up when the hotel room door open and Dean walked in. He immediately grinned when her heard Sam being sick.

"How you feeling, Sammy?" he asked obnoxiously. Sam groaned. "I guess mixing whiskey and Jager wasn't such a gangbuster idea, was it?" Dean said shooting Fallon a smile. "I'll bet you don't remember a thing from last night, do you?"

"Ohh, I can still taste the tequila," Sam moaned.

"Gross," Fallon muttered.

"You know there's a really good hangover remedy," Dean commented. "It's a greasy pork sandwich served up in a dirty ash tray."

"Oh, I hate you," Sam choked out as he began dry heaving.

"I know you do," Dean laughed.

"Did you learn anything new about the case?" Fallon asked.

"Yeah," Dean said. "Turns out when Grandma Rose was a tyke, she had a Creole nanny who wore a hoodoo necklace. Whoo!" Dean waved a hand in front of his face as he came to stand in front of the bathroom. Fallon decided to stay where she was on the other side of the room.

"So, you think she taught Rose hoodoo?" Sam said.

"Yes, I do," Dean replied.

"Alright," Sam moaned as he forced himself to his feet. "I think it's time we talk to Rose, then."

Dean grimaced. "Oh, you can brush your teeth first," he said. "Fallon and I will wait in the hall for you."

Fallon opened the door to let Dean and Sam into the owner's private living space. "This always so wrong," she commented.

"Necessary evil," Dean said. "And a means to stopping the evil that's actually going on."

"Yeah, yeah," Fallon grumbled as they walked through another door and found themselves presented with a dimly lit staircase. "This place is creepy."

"You can say that again," Dean agreed. They climbed the staircase which led up to a small hallway. The door to a room at the end was open and the three of them walked towards that room and saw an old woman sitting in a wheelchair facing a window.

"Mrs. Thompson?" Sam asked as they stepped into the room. "Mrs. Thompson, we're not here to hurt you, it's okay…"

"Sam," Fallon said cutting him off. Both boys looked towards her. "She's not trembling because she's afraid. She had a stroke."

"But hoodoo's hands on," Dean said. "I mean, you've got to mix herbs, and chant, and build an altar."

"So, it can't be Rose," Sam said. "Maybe it's not even hoodoo."

"Well, as I stated from the beginning there's a ghost here," Fallon said.

"Or she could be faking," Dean suggested.

"Yeah? What are you going to do? Poke her with a stick?" Sam replied dryly. Dean paused for a moment before nodding.

Fallon slapped him on the back of the head. "You're not gonna poke her with a stick!" she hissed.

"What the hell?!" They turned and saw Susan standing in the doorway. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, we just wanted to talk to Rose…"

"Well, the door was open…"

"Next time only one of you open your mouths," Fallon said.

"Look at her, she is scared out of her wits," Susan cried. "I want you out of my hotel in two minutes or I'm calling the cops." The three of them immediately fled the room.

"So, what now?" Fallon asked as they left the hotel.

"We're not going far," Sam said. "Things are going to start escalating soon."

"They weren't escalated already?" Fallon commented.

"Yeah, but with everyone else as part of the moving deal is gone this ghost is going to go after its main target," Dean said. "Susan."

"Oh, so you finally believe me about the ghost being the culprit now," Fallon said sardonically.

"Shut up," Dean groaned.

"Only when you admit I was right," Fallon replied.

"That's never…"

"Guys, can we get a plan together here?" Sam asked intervening.

"Well, since we got kicked out, I guess we just need to keep an eye on the place," Fallon said.

"Dean and I got kicked out," Sam pointed out. "She doesn't know about you."

"You want to keep an eye on Susan?" Fallon said.

"Yes…"

"No!"

"Well, yes or no," Fallon said looking back and forth between both boys. "Which is it?"

"You're not staying in that inn without backup," Dean said.

"Dean, she doesn't need backup," Sam said. "Fallon can take care of herself. We've seen her take on spirits much stronger than this."

"With our help," Dean countered.

"Never with your help," Fallon re-countered and then sighed. "Let's just stake out the inn. If something happens inside, I'll be able to tell as long as we're close."

"Fine," Sam agreed. The three got in the Impala and drove down the road. They then got out and walked back up to the inn. They used a thick bunch of bushes to stay out of view from Susan who had come out into the yard. As they watched they saw the swing set start moving.

"Think it's windy enough for that to swing set to move on its own?" Dean said.

"No," Fallon and Sam answered keeping their eyes glued on Susan who was laying a hand on the teeter-totter, trying to stop it. Suddenly, the activity picked up and Susan's car started with a roar.

"Shit!" Fallon exclaimed, and Sam broke out in a run towards Susan as the car pelted towards her. He saved her just in time. Dean and Fallon ran over to join them.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked helping Susan to her feet.

"I think so," Susan replied shakily.

"Come on, come on," Dean urged. "Let's get inside." The group made their way to the bar in the inn.

"Whiskey," Susan ordered weakly and Dean grabbed a shot glass. "What the hell happened out there?"

"You want the truth?" Dean asked handing her the shot glass full of whiskey.

"Of course," Susan said.

"Well, at first we thought it was some sort of hoodoo curse," Dean began, but Fallon cut him off.

"No, you thought it was hoodoo," she corrected. "I knew it was a ghost the entire time."

"But that out there," Dean continued as if she hadn't spoken, which was fine since Susan didn't see or hear her anyhow, "that was definitely a spirit."

"You're insane," Susan said.

"It's been said," Dean replied unconcerned.

"Look, I'm really sorry, Susan," Sam cut in. "We don't exactly have time to ease you into this, but we need to know when your mother had the stroke."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Just answer the question," Sam said patiently.

"About a month ago," Susan told them.

"Right before the killings began," Sam commented looking at Dean and Fallon. "See? What if Rose was working hoodoo, but not to hurt anyone. To protect them."

"She was using the five spot urns to ward off the spirit," Dean said.

"Right, until she had a stroke and couldn't anymore," Fallon added.

"I don't believe this," Susan moaned.

"Look, believe what you want," Sam said, "but the fact is you and your family are in danger, alright? So, you need to clear everybody out of here; your employees, your mother, your daughters, everyone."

"I only have on daughter," Susan said.

"One?" Sam asked.

"I thought Tyler had a sister named Maggie," Dean said.

"Maggie's imaginary," Susan said.

"It's always the imaginary friend," Fallon sighed. "My cousin Julien had one. His mother was so freaked out by some of the things he told her about his friend that she had a priest come and bless the house. The imaginary friend disappeared after that." She frowned. "Huh. Who knew?" Dean shot her an amused look, but Sam kept his attention on Susan.

"Where's Tyler?" Sam asked.

"She's in the playroom," Susan said as they began to hurry there. When they flung open the door Tyler was nowhere to be seen and broken dolls lay scattered around the floor. "Tyler!"

"Susan, tell us what you know about Maggie," Sam ordered when it became apparent the little girl was not here.

"Not much," Susan said. "Tyler's been talking about her since Mom got sick."

"Did you ever know anyone by that name?" Sam asked.

"No," Susan replied.

"Think," Dean urged. "I mean somebody that could have lived here. Might have passed away?"

"Oh my god," Susan sighed. "My mom had a sister named Margaret. She barely spoke about her."

"Did Margaret happen to die here when she was a kid?" Sam asked.

"She drowned in the pool," Susan said.

"Oh my god!" Fallon exclaimed immediately teleporting to the room with the indoor pool…except she was blocked. She popped outside the room. She rattled the door but couldn't make it budge. Sam joined her and the two worked together to bring down the door. Fallon glanced at the glass window on the door. She thought Sam could probably wriggle through if she broke the glass.

"Sam, stand back," Fallon said after a few more tries of budging the door. Sam did as he was told. Fallon took a deep breath and held her hands palm up at her chest. Using all her strength she shoved her hands forward, letting out a scream of determination. The class cracked throughout the window. Sam rushed back towards her and punched the glass out of the window before hurrying through. Fallon watched through the space and saw Sam jump into the pool after the kid. After a moment he surfaced and had the kid breathing again. She sighed in relief and headed back to the Impala to wait for the boys.

It was awhile before the boys joined her. It became clear when the paramedics showed up that Rose had passed away. The boys must have stayed to comfort Susan and make sure Maggie wouldn't be a problem anymore.

"So, that was an interesting case after taking a month off," Fallon commented as they drove away.

"Feels good getting back into the saddle, doesn't it?" Dean said.

"Yeah, it does," Sam answered. "But it doesn't change what we talked about last night, Dean." Fallon tensed and caught Dean's eyes in the rearview mirror.

"We talked about a lot of things last night," he said guardedly.

"You know what I mean," Sam said.

"You were wasted," Dean dismissed.

"But you weren't," Sam said. "And you promised." Fallon shared another glance with Dean as Sam started to brood. The anxiety in his eyes kept her from remarking that she'd warned him about making that promise. She settled in for an uncomfortable car ride.