Warnings: Angst.

Bamby

SPOV

I sat at a table in a diner, on the phone to Lizzie as she went over a possible case she'd found. It was nice to hear from her. It had been a week since she'd gone off with Tristan. A week since I'd heard from her. As much as I was relieved to know that she was happy, I still missed having her around.

"No, no, no, you're right, it's definitely weird." I nodded, talking to Lizzie while I looked at my screen, at the article she'd told me about. "Okay, Lizzie, thanks. Will we see you there?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world."

Hearing the smile in her voice, I was okay to hang up and end the conversation there. As I slipped my phone back into my pocket, Dean slid into the seat across from me.

"What's up?"

I began to type on my laptop as I answered him. "Lizzie found something in Wyoming."

He'd been about to take a bite out of his burger when he paused at my words. "Liz called you about a job?"

"Maybe." I shrugged, before realising what he meant. "You haven't heard from her?" When he just gave a short shake of his head before he took a bite out of his burger, I let out a sigh. "It's the first time I've heard from her since she left, Dean."

"I'm not worried, Sam."

I knew it was a lie. He knew, I knew it was a lie. We both cared about Lizzie, and not having her around made both of us worry. But she was a big girl and could handle herself, and Tristan was there to take care of her, so there was no point in dwelling on it any longer.

"Tell me about the case."

Shifting in my seat and clearing my throat, I explained everything Lizzie had told me. "Small town, no one's died in the past week and a half."

"That so unusual?" he asked with a mouth full of food.

"Well, it's how they're not dying. One guy with terminal cancer strolls right out of hospice. Another guy gets capped by a mugger and walks away without a scratch."

"Capped in the ass?"

"Police say Mr Jenkins was shot in the heart at point-blank range by a nine-millimetre."

Still eating Dean asked, "And he's not a doughnut?"

"Locals are saying it's a miracle."

"Okay."

"It's got to be something nasty, right? I mean, people making deals or something."

He thought about it for a moment. "You think?"

"What else would it be?"

"I don't know." He shrugged.

"All right." Closing my laptop, I put it in my bag as I stood up. "Get that to go." I gestured to Dean's food as I turned to leave. "Come on." But when I realised he wasn't moving to follow, I stopped walking and turned to him again, pulling the strap of my bag over my shoulder. "What?"

He looked up at me as he continued to eat, glancing away from a moment before answering, "Sure you want me going with you?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

He shrugged once more. "I don't want to be holding you back or nothing."

I let out an annoyed sigh. "Dude, I've told you a hundred times, that was the siren talking, not me. Can we get past this?"

Putting down the burger, he nodded as he got to his feet. "Yeah, we're past it." Brushing off his hands, he moved to leave, his body language making it clear that we clearly weren't past it.

DPOV

After talking to Mr Jenkins and hearing that he thought him surviving a gunshot wound in the chest must be a miracle, Sam and I had come back to our hotel. Sam didn't stay for long though. While he was out interviewing more people, I was looking up reasons why people might be dying, because the two of us were pretty sure all these people cheating death had nothing to do with demon deals...

The door opened as Sam walked in then. "Hey." He nodded, closing the door behind him.

I looked away from the laptop, facing him. "Anything?"

"That cancer survivor? He was clinically dead, his wife pulled the plug, and now he's taking her out for their twentieth anniversary."

"Any sign of a deal?"

"No." he shook his head. "What about you? Found anyone dying around here?"

"Not since Cole Griffith." I gestured to the article I'd found on the internet. "He dropped ten days ago. It was the last death I could find."

"So, what are you thinking?"

"Eh, maybe it is what the people say it is." I shrugged, getting up to make myself a coffee.

With a scoff, Sam moved to take my seat, looking the article over. "Miracles? Dean, our experience, when do miracles just happen?"

"Well, there's no deals. There's, uh, no skeevy faith healers," I noted as I poured some coffee into a mug, going on. "I mean, these souls just ain't getting dragged into the light."

Sam thought about it for a moment before suggesting, "Maybe 'cause there's no one around to carry them."

"What do you mean?" I asked, coming back over to where he still sat by the computer.

"Well, grim reapers. That's what they do, right? Schlep souls? So, if death ain't in town-"

"Then nobody's dying." I finished for him. "So, what? The local reaper's on strike? Playing the back nine? I don't know, Sam," I admitted, taking a drink of my coffee.

"Well, then, let's talk to somebody who might."

"Well, last I checked, huggy bear ain't available."

"No, dude, the kid."

"The kid? The kid's a doornail," I noted.

"Exactly. Look, if he was the last person to die around here, then maybe he's seen something. We should talk to him."

"I love how matter-of-fact you are about that." I shook my head. "Strange lives."

EPOV

Things were not good. Tristan had left a couple of days ago to get my pills, and he still wasn't back yet. That meant I was alone, at his cabin, in the middle of nowhere with no reception and no TV. Not that I was in the mood for much of anything. No, right now all I could manage was to curl up into a ball in bed and try to fight the pain. As I said, things weren't good.

Since being alone, I hadn't been able to eat a single thing. All I'd taken was some water so I could swallow the painkillers I'd found in my bag.

Sleep was a faraway dream. The last time I'd had a good night's sleep? I couldn't even remember if I'd ever experienced such a thing. All memories of feeling anything other than this pain, discomfort and misery seemed like lies.

There was a large part of me that wished I wasn't alone at that moment. I wished I had someone with me.

Jo would do whatever it took to make sure I'd smile. She would have brought an endless number of DVDs which we would have attempted to watch on the couch. It wouldn't take away the pain, but it would distract me enough to try and forget about it.

Ellen would have me right where I am now, in bed. Only she would have tucked me in and made sure I'd eaten a good meal beforehand. She'd mother me the way she always had, making sure I got better as quickly as possible.

Bobby would just be here. He'd do what he can, but he'd know there wasn't much change he could make. He'd just hang around in the background, waiting for me to call for him. He'd just want me to know he'd be there for me whenever I might need him.

Sam would be trying to find out what's wrong with me. He'd spend half his time researching while the rest of his time would be spent making sure I was taken care of. Blankets, water, pills, food. Anything I'd need and he would give it to me before getting back to research.

Dean, I wasn't too sure about. Before I would have said he'd be a mixture of everyone else, trying to distract me, while taking care of me, but also trying to give me space. Now, though... now I was pretty sure he would distance himself more than anything.

The thought of my family made my heart ache, adding to my already growing pain.

Groaning, I rolled over so I could reach over to the bedside table where the pills and a glass of water sat. With shaking hands, I managed to lift two pills and the glass, bringing them to my lips, hoping that the small reprieve the pills would give me might be enough to help me get even the tiniest bit of sleep.

SPOV

In the cemetery at night, Dean and I stood by Cole Griffith's grave. We'd lit five candles and arranged them around a pentacle we'd drawn on a cloth spread over the grave. I was busy putting a bundle of sticks in the centre of the pentacle while Dean sat on another gravestone, flipping through dad's journal.

"You sure this is gonna work?"

I looked up from the sticks to turn to Dean. "No," I admitted. "But if his spirit's around, this should smoke him out," I noted before pouring some liquid into a bowl. When Dean closed dad's journal a little harshly, I looked up at him again. "What?"

"This job is jacked, that's what."

"How so?"

"You want me to gank a monster or torch a corpse, hey, let's light it up, right? But this? If we fix whatever this is, people are gonna start dropping dead. Good people."

I stood up with a sigh. "Look, I don't want them to die, either, Dean, but there's a natural order."

"You're kidding, right?"

"What?"

"You don't see the irony in that? I mean, you and me, we're like the poster boys of the unnatural order. All we do is ditch death."

"Yeah, but the normal rules don't really apply to us, do they?"

Dean chuckled lightly, as if he thought I was joking, only to realise I wasn't. "We're no different than anybody else."

"I'm infected with demon blood. You've been to hell." He looked away as I went on. "Look, I know you want to think of yourself as Joe the Plumber, Dean, but you're not. Neither am I. The sooner you accept that the better off you're gonna be."

"Ah, Joe the Plumber was a douche," he mumbled, looking to the sky.

"You gonna help me finish this?" I asked, gesturing to Cole's grave.

As Dean stood and went to join me, a flashlight shone on us.

"Hey!" A man headed in our direction, carrying the flashlight. "What are you doing here?"

"Uh…" I glanced nervously at Dean before looking at the man again. "Just take it easy."

"What the hell is this?" the man asked, looking down at Cole's grave where I'd set everything up for the summoning ritual.

"Okay, this," Dean started, "this- this is not what it looks like," he laughed awkwardly.

"Really?" the man looked to him. "'Cause, it looks like devil worship."

"What?" Dean laughed again. "No! No, this is not devil worship. This- this is- this- this is, uh..." coming up with nothing, he gave up, "I don't have a good answer."

"We're leaving," I assured the man, hoping that if we just left he wouldn't ask any more questions or cause any problems.

Shining the light on me again, the man spoke, stopping us from going anywhere. "You're not going anywhere." I frowned, watching him take a few steps closer to us. "Ever again. Sam." Turning his head, he looked to Dean, his eyes rolling back until they were completely white.

I tensed, ready for a fight.

Dean glared at the demon. "Alastair." He nodded as Alastair's eyes rolled back to human. "I thought you got deep-fried, extra-crispy."

"Nah. Just the paediatrician I was riding. His wife's still looking for him. It's hilarious. Anyway," Alastair looked to me again, "no time to chat. Got a hot date with death." He flicked his hand.

Dean went flying through the air, crashing into a gravestone, falling unconscious.

"Dean!"

Turning to me, Alastair lifted his hand to flick me away as well, but nothing happened. He tried one more time, but as I smirked at him he realised he could do nothing to me.

"You're stronger, Sam. You've been Soloflexing with your little slut?"

"You have no idea."

Raising my own hand, I threw him across the graveyard and against a tree, holding him there so I could exorcise him. But before I had the chance, he fled from the body he was holed up in, flying away, vanishing.

DPOV

I was lying back on my bed in the hotel, icepack to my head- which hurt like a son of a bitch. The last thing I'd remembered is Sam waking me up in the graveyard, helping me to my feet so he could get us to Baby and drive us back here. On the way I'd seen the human body Alastair had been in, but it was undamaged, and definitely not possessed anymore. It wasn't until we were in the car that I asked Sam what had happened.

The hotel room door opened as Sam came in, looking at me lying there. "How you doing?"

"I'm in pain, that's how I'm doing. I think I have a concussion."

"You want some aspirin?"

Groaning, I sat myself up. "No thanks, House. So, demons, huh?"

"Yeah," he sighed. "So much for miracles."

"And what the hell happened with Alastair again?"

"I told you, he tried to fling me or whatever." He flicked his hand to show me what he meant, while he moved over to the coffeemaker. "And it didn't work, so he bailed."

"Well, how come he couldn't fling you? He chucked you pretty good last time," I noted.

He turned to face me again, pausing as if trying to come up with an answer before he actually gave me one. "Got no idea," he said before turning back to the coffeemaker.

"Sam, do me a favour," I started, causing him to look at me again. "If you're gonna keep your little secrets, I can't really stop you, but just don't treat me like an idiot, okay?"

"What? Dean, I'm not keeping secrets."

"Mm-hm. Whatever." I really didn't believe him. "So, did you go back and q-and-a the dead kid?"

Coming over to sit on his own bed, he shook his head. "Didn't have to. Lizzie called. She did some digging."

"And?"

"She thinks I'm right. Local reaper's gone. Not just gone. Kidnapped."

"By demons? Why?"

"Listen to this." He pulled a little book out of his pocket and began to read. "'And he bloodied death under the newborn sky. Sweet to taste, but bitter when once devoured'."

"Swanky. What the hell's that mean?"

"Well, it's from a very obscure, very arcane version of Revelations."

"Which means what I think it means?"

"Basically, you kill a reaper under the solstice moon. Tomorrow night, by the way. You got yourself a broken seal."

"How do you ice a reaper? You can't kill death."

"I don't know. Maybe demons can. Where the hell are the angels is what I want to know. We could use their help for once." He had a good point there, but I wasn't holding my breath for them to show up.

"It looks like we're gonna have to take care of this one ourselves."

"What are we gonna do, just swing in and save the friendly neighbourhood reaper?"

"You got a better idea, I'm all ears."

"Dean, reapers are invisible. The only people that can see them are the dead and the dying."

"Well, if ghosts are the only ones that can see them..."

"Yeah?"

"Then we become ghosts." I grinned, pressing the icepack to my head again.

He frowned at me. "You do have a concussion."

"Sounds crazy, I know."

"It is crazy," he noted, which just made my grin grow. "How?"

EPOV

The light brush of fingers against my cheek had me open my eyes with a flutter, looking up at Tristan as he sat on the edge of my bed, smiling down at me kindly.

"Hey there, sleepyhead. How you feeling?"

I groaned, still feeling pain everywhere. My veins felt like sandpaper, my legs like iron rods, my head like a bomb field, my heart like an uneven rhythmed drum. The pain was heavy and throbbed through me. Every time I moved, I expected my bones to snap. I felt weak and tired. I was actually beginning to wonder if I was going to survive whatever was happening to me.

Seeing me struggle, Tristan stopped me from sitting up. "Whoa there, whoa." He guided me back down to the pillows. "Here. I got you something." Turning, he reached over to the bedside table and showed me a little red pill.

I moved to sit up. Everything inside me, I could feel how eager it was to get a hold of the pill. It would fix this. It would fix me. I was sure of it.

"Easy. Easy." He helped me lean up as he brought the pill t my lips. I opened my mouth, letting him set it on my tongue. "One for now. You can have more later," he assured me as he grabbed the glass of water from the bedside table and pressed it to my lips. As I took a drink, he watched me. "You won't feel better right away, but in a few days, you'll be as good as new. I promise."

The pill moved down my throat. I closed my eyes at the feeling, knowing it was only a matter of time now...

"There we go." Gently, Tristan laid me back down on the pillows, bringing the blanket up to my chest as I began to feel the pill working a little already. "Just sleep," he whispered, leaning down to press a kiss to my forehead.

Before I knew it, I was out like a light.

DPOV

The hotel door opened as Sam let unamused Pamela and me inside.

"I can't even begin to tell you how crazy you two are." She shook her head, feeling the counter in the room as she walked towards the table.

"Well, Pamela, you're a sight for sore eyes," Sam told her, closing the door.

With a light chuckle, she turned to face us, lowering her sunglasses far enough to reveal her white plastic eyes. "Aw, that's sweet, grumpy." She put her sunglasses back into place. "What do you say to deaf people?" I looked to the ground, amused. While Sam was instantly uncomfortable and guilty. "Which one of you brainiacs came up with astral projection?"

I raised a hand. "Yo."

She scoffed. "Of course. Chachi."

I turned to Sam, mouthing, "Chachi?"

He simply shrugged.

"So, let's be clear." Pamela went on, grabbing our attention again. "You want to rip your souls out of your bodies and take a little stroll through the spirit world?"

"Mm-hm." I nodded.

"Do you have any idea how heavy-duty insane that is?" She folded her arms over her chest.

I shrugged. "Maybe, but that's where the reaper is, so..."

"So, it's nuts."

"Not if you know what you're doing," I noted.

"You don't know what you're doing," Pamela countered.

"No, but you do."

"Yeah, I do. And guess what? I'm sick of being hauled back into your angel-demon, Soc-Greaser crap."

I shook his head at her. "Look, I'd love to be kicking back with a cold one, watching Judge Judy, too."

"Nice." Pamela scoffed once more. "More blind jokes?"

"You know what I mean," I told her, not in the mood to drag this on any longer. "We're talking the end of the world here, okay? No more tasselled leather pants, no more Ramones CDs, no more nothing." I stepped closer to her. "We need your help."

SPOV

"Tell me something, geniuses. Even if you do break into the veil and you find the reaper, how you gonna save it?"

Pamela asked from where she sat on a chair at the foot of both beds while Dean and I moved around to step up the room for her.

"With style and class." Dean grinned.

Pamela shook her head at him. "You're gonna be two walking pieces of fog who can't touch or move anything. You'll be defenceless, hotshot."

"I seem to recall a bunch of ghosts beating the crap out of us," I noted.

"Yeah, well, they had plenty of time to practice."

"Well, then, I guess we got to start cramming." Dean shrugged as if it was going to be that easy.

Even with glasses on, I could tell Pamela had rolled her eyes at Dean. "Wow, couple of heroes." She shook her head again. "Where's Lizzie? This would be a lot more pleasant if she was here."

Dean and I shared a look before I cleared my throat. "She's, uh... she went with her boyfriend."

"Boyfriend?" Pamela frowned. "Why haven't I heard about him?"

"I don't know." I shrugged, honestly having no idea.

The frown stayed on Pam's face as if she was worried about something, but she didn't waste any more time before getting back to work. "All right." She gave my bed a pat. "Lie down. Close your eyes."

As soon as the words had left her mouth, Dean and I had done as Pamela said. We'd been a little unsure at first but didn't question her as we laid down on our beds. Now it was just a matter of waiting for her to do the rest. It was all up to her now.

"Animum vult decipi, ergo decipiatur. Vis, vis, vis," she chanted before pausing for a second. "Okay, guys," she sighed. "That's it. Showtime."

Dean sat up with a sigh, turning to Pamela. "Well, nothing like shooting blanks. What's plan B?"

But Pam didn't hear him. Dean turned to look at my body where it was lying on my bed, while I moved to stand next to him. We both then looked behind him, to where his body was lying unconscious...

"Oh, I'm so feeling up Demi Moore."

I rolled my eyes at him.

"All right," Pamela started, "so, I'm assuming you're somewhere over the rainbow. Remember I have to bring you back." She stood and more to lean over my body. "I'll whisper the incantation in your ear." We watched as she whispered in my ear. "You have got a great ass."

I grinned and chuckled lightly, causing Dean to turn to me. "What'd she- what'd she say?"

But I simply shrugged.

DPOV

Sam and I were walking around outside, looking around. Everything seemed pretty normal, but the colouring was a little off. Like it was all a little bluer than normal... The other thing different was the fact that no one could see us. A jogged had been headed right our war and went straight through Sam without even noticing.

I laughed, watching her go before I turned back to Sam. "That was wild."

Lifting my arm, I stuck it in his chest, wriggling my fingers around a little. Sam just looked down at my arm, and then at me, unimpressed.

"Am I making you uncomfortable?"

"Get out of me."

Doing as he said, I pulled my arm out of him. "You're such a prude. Come on," I mumbled before walking off, knowing he was right behind me.

SPOV

"Oh, man, we've been spooking this town for hours." Dean groaned as we walked down a street. "No demons, no black smoke. I say we hit Victoria's Secret and get our peep on, huh?"

But instead of answering, I came to a stop as I saw someone in the window of a house across the street. "Hey. Three o'clock. Kid in the window." Dean stopped to take a look. "Am I crazy or is he looking at us?"

"It's 'cause we've seen him before."

"We have?"

"Newspaper. Cole Griffith, the last person to die in this town."

Cole flickered before he vanished...

DPOV

As Sam and I hurried up the stairs of Cole's house, a woman ran through us- he was running away from the room she'd just left. Moving closer to the door of the room, Sam and I could hear things moving around inside...

Entering the room, I saw Cole throw a ball across the room. Seeing Sam and me, he began to throw balls at us.

"Stop!" I yelled at him. "How are you doing that?"

Instead of answering, he stood defensively as he looked at Sam and me. "Who are you?"

"Relax, Cole," Sam told him, hands raised in surrender. "It's okay."

"How do you know my name?"

"Look, this isn't gonna be easy to hear, but you're... dead. You're a spirit. Us too." Sam gestured to me and himself.

"Yeah, thanks, Haley Joel. I know I'm dead," Cole snapped. "What do you want?"

Sam lowered his hands. "We just want to talk."

"About what?"

SPOV

Standing in the Griffith kitchen, Cole, Dean and I watched Cole's mum as she poured herself a glass of vodka and moved around the room, clearly struggling with the death of her child. But Cole couldn't see the pain he was inflicting, being here. He just leaned against the wall, watching her with worried eyes, while Dean and I sat at the table.

"I was outside all morning," Cole explained. "They tell you to be careful when it's cold."

"Cold air can cause an asthma attack?" Dean asked.

Cole nodded, giving a short shrug. "But then I was in my room. It happened so fast. I called out for my mom, but nothing came out. Everything started spinning, and then I was just standing there, looking down at my body." He came over to lean on the table.

"And that's when you saw the man?" I asked, even though I knew that's how it worked.

"Creepy old guy in a black suit. He wanted me to go with him, but..." Cole paused, looking to his mum again. "I didn't want to go."

"Reaper," I noted, and Dean nodded in agreement. "How'd you get rid of him?"

Cole shook his head. "I didn't. The black smoke did."

Dean frowned. "Black smoke?"

"It was everywhere. I hid in the closet, and when I came out, it was gone, and so was he."

"Do you know where the smoke went?" Dean asked, leaning forward.

"No. But I know where it is," Cole told us, right before the lights began to flicker, causing him to jump. "They're back."

"Who?"

But instead of answering Dean's question, Cole vanished. Moments later, a blast of wind hit us before a white figure rushed through the front door and up the stairs.

"Another reaper." I got to my feet- Dean right behind me- and headed for the stairs.

"Hey!" Dean called after it. "Hey! Wait! We need to talk to you!" he finished as we stopped at the bottom of the stairs.

Looking up, we watched as a woman walked down, moving towards us, his eyes on my brother.

"Dean."

What the...?

"Do I know you?" Dean asked, just as confused as I was.

The reaper shrugged. "We go way back," she told him as she walked past us, moving towards the kitchen before she turned to Dean again. "You don't remember me?"

"Honestly, if I had a nickel for every time I heard a girl say that," he started as we came to stop a few steps away from her- Dean one step ahead of me. "You're gonna have to freshen my memory."

Stepping forward, the woman reached up and pulled Dean down for a kiss... before she pulled back, just like that. But the look in Dean's eyes, I could tell that hadn't just been a kiss. Something had happened...

"Tessa."

She nodded. "That's one of my names, yeah."

"So, you do know her."

Dean glanced at me for a moment. "From the hospital after the accident."

"The accident with dad?" I asked, remembering that day like it was yesterday. Dean nodded. "So, this is the reaper that came after you." I glared at Tessa.

Dean nodded again. "Yeah."

Tessa looked at me briefly. "Well, this was fun." She turned back to Dean. "Now, if you'll excuse me." She went to walk past us, moving for the stairs. But before she could get far, Dean stopped her.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, you can't- you can't take the kid."

"Why?"

"Demons are in town, that's why. They've already snatched your reaper pal. The kid knows where."

"So?"

"So, you should shag ass. For all we know, they could try and snatch you, too," I told her.

"Except that this town is off the rails. And someone has to set it straight."

"Yeah, we understand that, but these are special circumstances," Dean noted.

Tessa scoffed. "What? Your whole angel-demon dance-off? I could care less. I just want to do my job."

"Right, yeah, and, look, we want to help you do your job. So, if you would just bail town-

She cut me off. "No."

"Well, then, could you hold off until we fix this?" Dean asked. "Please."

She let out a sigh. "All right, but just so we're clear, when I start reaping again, I'm starting with the kid."

"Understood." I gave a firm nod. "I'll find him," I told them, moving for the stairs.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait." Dean stopped me, causing me to turn to him. "What-" He took a breath. "What are you gonna say to him?"

"Whatever I have to."

EPOV

I'd been asleep for a few hours now. I was sure of it. When I'd closed my eyes, it had been light out, but through the crack of the curtain, I could see it was well and truly dark now.

Pulling myself up into a sitting position, I ran a hand over my face as I managed to get to my feet. I was still a little shaky, but I felt a little better, just like Tristan said I would. Though I wasn't a hundred per cent. Probably not even fifty yet. It would take some more time before I was back to normal.

As I walked over to the bedroom door, walking lightly to keep noise levels minimal- for my headache's sake- I lifted a hand to the doorknob. Turning it, I pulled the door open a crack only to come to a stop at the sight before me.

Tristan stood in the kitchen of the cabin... a knife to his bleeding wrist... the blood dripping into an ancient-looking metal bowl as he chanted something in what sounded like Latin. But that's not what had me freeze and my heart raced as fear began to replace the pain coursing through my veins. No, it was his eyes. His black eyes.

Bamby