Yay! Another long chapter! So, will Juliet meet her maker? Or can Shawn save her in time?

"What?" Dean yelled as another burst of static shot through the line. Flashing his lights as the shadow again popped up in Juliet's backseat, he flipped the phone shut. She wasn't getting it, didn't realize she was in danger.

He stayed on her tail, wondering what was taking the damn ghost so long to get up the nerve to attack the attractive cop, when the roar of an engine drew his attention from the car in front of him. A blue motorcycle sped past the cars and Dean had a split second to worry about the speeding bike striking the grille of a large truck before the shadow again revealed itself.

Suddenly, the bike was speeding past again, right beside him, and the driver waved. "Shawn?" Dean asked as the motorcycle weaved expertly between the two cars before speeding up to the front of the line.

As soon as he had positioned himself in the middle of the road before Juliet's car, Shawn stopped. The two cars behind him, in an effort to avoid splattering him all over the highway, swerved to the side of the road.

The bike's kickstand was down and Shawn was running to Juliet's car before Dean even had a chance to turn off the Impala's engine.

"What were you thinking?" Juliet screamed as Shawn grabbed the handle of her door and began tugging at it.

"You need to get out of the car," he muttered, "now."

"Why?"

Shawn glanced back at the Impala. The driver's door was open, but Dean was nowhere to be seen. "Uh, well," the 'psychic' began, "because…OH! Oh, it's so bright! The lights, I can see them. Quick, you need to get out of the car. The next legend on the killer's list, it's… yes, the backseat. There's a killer in your backseat!"

Juliet gasped and turned around in time to see two legs slide out of the passenger side window in the back. She clamored out of her car just as Dean ran around his car to them.

"Which way'd it go?" the hunter asked, shotgun held at his side. Shawn and Juliet pointed at the small wooded area by the road. Dean nodded and took off at a run after the would-be killer.

It didn't take the experienced hunter long to find the panting pale figure, which had stopped to catch its breath beside a large tree. "Hey, Chuckles," Dean shouted, "every myth teaches a lesson. This one is that you shouldn't get caught." He fired the shotgun, which had been loaded with rock salt, as the ghost began to run.

The salt hit the pale figure in the back, but only succeeded in slowing it down. It ran farther away, leaving Dean standing between two tall trees. "What the hell?" he muttered as Shawn and Juliet came running up.

"We heard the shot," the officer said, "did you get him?"

"No," Dean said, "I missed."

"So, it's not a ghost?" Gus asked, "I thought you guys were experts. I thought you said it was the guy's ghost."

"Well we were wrong," Dean said, running his fingers through his short hair as they sat in the office the morning after Juliet was nearly killed, "it's not a ghost. It's not a clown, either, just a really pale human."

"But why would he be copying James' MO?"

Dean shrugged. "People are crazy."

"At least we know where he's getting the order of the legends now," Sam sighed, "and we know which one is next. It's 'The Nut and the Nuts.'"

Shawn cocked an eyebrow. "That sounds interesting."

"Lug nuts, Shawn," Gus clarified, "it's a legend about a woman who hears a lunatic's escaped from the local asylum and her tire goes flat. She gets out to change it, gets all the lug nuts off, and finds the lunatic standing behind her."

"She's startled and drops the nuts," Sam continued, "and she asks herself what she's going to do. That's when the nutjob tells her to take one nut from each of the other tires. She puts on the spare and goes on her way."

Dean nodded. "But so far all of the other legends have ended with someone's death, or would have. You think he'll skip this one?"

"Who knows, but we should tell the cops. They might be able to find him."

The station was busy, as it should have been, with people running around and trying to find the person responsible for the Stenson murder. The group of four people walked through the room, heading for the police chief's office, when Dean put out a hand to stop them. "Listen," he whispered.

A woman was standing by the reception desk, relating a story to Lassiter. "And then he told me to take one nut from each of my other tires and I did. He didn't attack me. He didn't even look crazy."

"But he was wearing a straight jacket?" Lassiter asked, jotting a note down on a small pad in his hand.

The woman nodded. "Yes, that's what it looked like. It was white and long-sleeved, and had buckles all down the side."

"Ok," Dean muttered, turning to look at his brother, "what's next?"

Sam pulled the list of myths he'd printed off the night before out of his pocket and unfolded it. He looked over the legends, starting with Bloody Mary. "Uh oh," he hissed.

"Uh oh? Uh oh, what?" Shawn asked.

Gus sidled up beside the tall, lanky man and glanced at the list. "Uh oh," he said, "we're next."

"That whole trip was a bust," Shawn complained as the Impala sped through Santa Barabara, "all we found out was that we're going to die soon. By the way, I love this upholstery, but, what is this? Is this blood?"

Gus jumped and looked down at the seat. He and his friend had been shoved into the back ,and now that he was looking for it, he could see a large, dark stain on the black seat.

"Oh, yeah," Dean said, blushing a little, "sorry about that. I told Sam people could still see it, but he didn't believe me."

"What happened?" Gus asked, disgusted.

Dean shrugged. "Well, there was this demon, see, and it pinned me to the wall and pretty much ripped my guts out. Sammy put me in the backseat for the ten minute drive to the hospital during which we were hit by a semi."

Shawn and Gus nodded slowly. "So, trucks attack you often?" Shawn asked.

"Shawn," Gus hissed, "this isn't funny. This stopped being funny a long time ago. Are you still planning on turning them in?"

"In time," his friend replied softly, "we just need to make sure Sam's vision doesn't come true."

"You believe them?"

"Of course. They seem like honest people."

"Thanks," Dean grinned, glancing into the rearview mirror, "you two aren't so bad yourselves."

"You heard us?" Gus asked nervously.

"Oh, come on, Gus," Shawn smiled, "they're crazy, not deaf. So, how do we stop Psychic Boy's vision from coming true?"

"We can start by driving the Impala everywhere," Sam offered, "we were in Gus' car in my vision. And we should stay off the roads at night, at least until this… whatever it is… is caught."

"It's just a person," Gus said, "nothing more, nothing less. He's obviously deranged, and picking up where James left off."

"Dean nodded. "A follower? Maybe James' kid?"

"I know one way to find out," Shawn grinned, "take the next exit. We're heading for the asylum."