PART EIGHT: Connect the Dots

Sam sat down at the desk in the basement. Everything was covered in a layer of dust, just as if he had never been down there before. His mind was still a mixed up muddle from what Dean had told him about Ellen. He still couldn't believe she hadn't been real.

He stared down at his fingertips. Closing his eyes he could remember the softness of her skin, the scent of her perfume, and the way her body felt pressed tightly against his own. He remembered...

Jess had felt the same way. Her perfume had been similar to what Ellen had worn, and God, their bodies had fit together so perfectly just like it had been with Jessica. Had his experience with Ellen actually been nothing more than a revival of vivid memories, memories of Jessica? Just how much of it had been real? His stomach churned queasily as he ran his fingers through his hair and groaned.

"Jesus, I screwed a ghost."

Ellen laughed at him.

Sam opened his eyes and she was there, perched on the edge of the desk. He resisted the temptation to cringe away from her. It would be stupid at this point. If she'd wanted to hurt him she could have done so long before.

His heart ached for her, not himself. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want to scare you."

"I'm not scared of ghosts."

"I know that now." She smiled again, but as she met his gaze, her expression sobered. "Will it work, Sam? If you burn Haddox will it free them from his curse?"

Sam nodded. "I think so."

They sat in silence for a moment, gazing into each other's eyes. For what purpose, Sam could not fathom, but he still perceived the odd connection he'd felt between them during previous encounters. He guessed he'd thought it would go away now that he knew the truth. It hadn't. Maybe it wouldn't. She was a spirit. He saw spirits. Subconsciously he must have known what she was all along.

"You told me your fiance was killed on the Curve." Sam said finally.

"Yeah." Ellen's voice turned wistful. "The year before I..." She stopped, still unwilling to talk to him about it. Shaking her head, she continued. "He's there, waiting for me, Sam. But as long as he's tied to the Curve I can't be with him. The others, they don't have the freedom I do." Reaching out a hand, she gently brushed the hair out of his eyes. Her smile was sad. "You reminded me of him."

"Did you know...about me being clairvoyant?"

"I sensed it I think. I sensed something in you. I knew you could help me."

"And I will," Sam replied gently. " 'cause I know what it's like to miss someone like that, Ellen. Sometimes..." He paused as his voice caught and turned rough. "Sometimes I can see Jessica's spirit. Out of the corner of my eye I catch just a fleeting glimpse, but no matter how hard I try, I can never get near her. I can't communicate with her like I can with others - like you - and I don't know why."

Ellen put a hand to his cheek. "One day, Sam. One day you'll have all the answers you need."

Sam rose to his feet with a sigh. "I wish I had that confidence, Ellen." He crossed around to the front of the desk. She stood up to meet him. "Because I need those answers. I can't keep going on like this."

She didn't reply. It was time for him to go, but he had one last gift to give her. "Ellen," he whispered, and slipping a hand beneath her chin he bent down to kiss her.

Her lips were warm.

When he pulled away she was gone. The room was empty and silent, tomb-like. Sam sighed deeply, jammed his hands in the pockets of his jeans, and limped back up the stairs, but he paused halfway as a thought occurred to him.

"Hey, Ellen," he called quietly. "Is there any way you could..."

She answered immediately, her voice sounding as if she were standing right next to him. He even thought he felt her breath on his cheek as she made her reply.

"I'll tell her you miss her, Sam, and that you love her."

"Ellen wait, there's something else..."

"What is it?"

Sam swallowed hard. "Tell her," he said roughly. "That I'm sorry."


Dean was lounging in the rental car in front of the library thoroughly enjoying both the stereo system and the air conditioner. Even with all the windows rolled up Sam could hear the muffled whine of a guitar and the pulse pounding beat of AC/DC's Back In Black. Dean saw him coming and grinned out at him happily from behind a pair of dark sunglasses.

The car, as Sam had noted earlier, was a 2006 Chevy Impala.

In black.

He opened the door and a blast of music and cold air rushed out at him. Several library patrons paused on their way in the door to stare at them disapprovingly. Sam hastily climbed into the car and shut the door. He also reached over to turn off the radio.

"Hey!"

Sam ignored the protest. "Maybe I should drive," he said.

"Why?"

"You've only got one hand, Dean."

"Hmm, yeah, like this thing doesn't have power steering and you don't have a sprained right ankle. Sit down, shut up, and put on your seatbelt."

"We have seatbelts?"

"Novel concept, isn't it?" Dean started the car - twice. The engine screamed in protest. "Crap!" He shook his head. "Still can't get used to how quiet the damn thing is."

"It is very quiet. Maybe you should think about trading the old gal in for a new one."

"Say that again and I'll hurt you." Dean glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. "You okay? Did she show up?"

"Yeah."

"Make your peace?"

Sam nodded. He had made his peace in more ways than one.

I'm sorry Jess, I'm so sorry you had to get mixed up with me.

"Yeah, I think so."

"Did you do her again?"

"No!" Sam shot his his chuckling brother a nasty look. "I swear to God, Dean, if you ever say anything about that to anyone, especially Dad, I will kill you. Slowly. And take pictures. AND," he added menacingly. "I'll post them on the Internet."

Dean pulled the car away from the curb and goosed it into a speed that was probably illegal. "Ectoplasmic sex" he laughed. "That's got to be one for the record books."

"Shut up."

"Admit it Sam, you wanted to do her again, right?"

"Dean..." Sam said warningly. "Shut. Up."

His brother continued to chuckle, clearly unable to contain his amusement, but he changed the subject - sort of.

"By the way, Sam, speaking of - that - I took a page from your playbook the other night."

"Huh? What are you talking about?"

"Public sex," Dean grinned. "I.C.U. nurses station." The grin broadened. "Played doctor with the lovely nurse Roseanne. Mmm, mmm, mmm. You're right Sammy, that's a lot of fun."

"Oh, my God, I've created a monster." Sam flung his head back against the headrest with a groan. After a minute he sat up again and began playing with the electric powered seating. Cool. He adjusted it to his liking and sat back, quite comfortable. "Where are we going anyway? Don't we have a body to dig up and torch?"

"Ye-up. But I figure neither of us is going to be able to do much digging all banged up like we are."

"Yeah? So?"

"So," Dean said lightly. "We're going to go see a man about a back-hoe."