December 2nd - December 5th, 2005

I woke up to a sharp pain after getting elbowed in the ribs. I sat up and saw Dean was sleeping on his stomach. He must've just readjusted himself. I didn't bother nudging him awake because he was completely passed out and deserved some sleep. I decided I would shower and get ready for the day, so I got up and grabbed some clothes out of my bag. When I looked back, I realized Sam wasn't in the other bed. Sam had always been an early riser, so I figured he just left to get us breakfast. If he was still gone when I finished getting ready, that's when I would wake up Dean to search for him in case something was wrong.

When I finished my shower, I put old jeans and a flannel on and left my hair down. I stepped out of the bathroom and noticed Sam was still not back. I was starting to get worried. As I walked over to Dean to wake him up, our door opened, and a tall, dark figure appeared behind the screen that separated the door from the rest of the room.

Dean started to move once he heard the door open. He was searching for the knife he had under his pillow. I knew the figure was most likely Sam, but my heart still pounded with anticipation. When the figure slammed the door shut, Dean sat up on the bed, and Sam appeared around the corner of the screen with drinks and food in his hands.

"Morning, sunshine," Sam said, smirking at Dean.

Dean groaned, sitting up. "What time is it?"

I sat down at the end of the other bed.

"Uh, it's about 5:45," Sam said.

Dean sighed. "In the morning?"

Sam nodded. "Yup."

"Where does the day go?" Dean asked, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "Did you guys get any sleep last night?"

"Yeah, I slept fine until you elbowed me in the ribs this morning," I said, pretending to be annoyed.

Dean looked at me and laughed. "Sorry, kiddo."

I just shrugged back at him and turned to look at Sam.

"Yeah, I grabbed a couple hours," Sam said.

"Liar. 'Cause I was up at three, and you were watching a George Foreman infomercial." Dean laughed.

"Hey, what can I say?" Sam smirked. "It's riveting TV."

"When was the last time you got a good night's sleep?" Dean asked.

"I don't know, a little while, I guess." Sam shrugged. "It's not a big deal."

"Yeah, it is," Dean said.

Sam sighed. "Look, I appreciate your concern—"

"Oh, I'm not concerned about you. It's your job to keep our asses alive, so I need you sharp," Dean said jokingly.

Sam shrugged and nodded.

"Seriously, are you still having nightmares about Jess?" Dean asked, concerned.

Sam walked over and handed me a peach tea and a cheese danish. I smiled up at him, and he smiled back.

Then he sat on the bed with me opposite of Dean and handed him a coffee. "Yeah. But it's not just her. It's everything. I just forgot, ya know? This job. Man, it gets to you."

"You can't let it." Dean shook his head. "You can't bring it home like that."

"So, what? All this, it... never keeps you up at night?" Sam asked.

Dean took a sip of his coffee and shook his head.

"Never?" Sam furrowed his brow. "You're never afraid?"

"No, not really." Dean shrugged.

To prove his point, Sam reached under Dean's pillow and pulled out his knife. Sam gave Dean a serious look while holding up the knife and shaking it.

Dean took the knife from Sam. "That's not fear. That is precaution."

"All right, whatever." Sam shook his head. "I'm too tired to argue."

Ring! Ring! Ring!

We all looked over at Dean's phone, not expecting a call so early in the morning.

Dean reached over and grabbed the phone, but before he answered it, he looked at the caller ID in confusion. "Hello?" (...) "Oh, right, yeah. Up in Kittanning, Pennsylvania, the poltergeist thing. It's not back, is it?"

Sam looked over at me, wondering if I knew who Dean was talking to.

I nodded and whispered, "His name is Jerry."

"What is it?" (...) Dean looked up at us after a moment and nodded. "Yeah, of course. We are on our way." He hung up the phone. "All right, we have to go guys."


When we arrived, Jerry was waiting for us outside of the airplane hangar he worked at, and I waved to him when I saw him. He greeted us and then walked us through the hangar. Jerry led the group, I followed behind, and then Sam and Dean walked side by side at the back of the group.

"Thanks for making the trip so quick. I ought to be doing you guys a favor, not the other way around." Jerry looked at Sam. "Dean and your dad really helped me out."

"Yeah, they told me." Sam nodded. "It was a poltergeist?"

"Poltergeist?" a worker asked off in the distance. "Man, I loved that movie."

Jerry turned to look at him while we continued walking. "Hey, nobody's talking to you. Keep working." He then turned back and continued talking to Sam, "Damn right it was a poltergeist, practically tore our house apart." He looked at Dean. "Tell you something, if it wasn't for you and your dad, I probably wouldn't be alive." We turned a corner, and Jerry went back to talking to Sam, "Your dad said you were off at college. Is that right?"

"Yeah, I was." Sam sighed. "I'm... taking some time off."

"Well, he was real proud of you. I could tell. He talked about you all the time," Jerry said.

"He did?" Sam asked, surprised.

"Yeah, you bet he did." Jerry nodded and then looked at Dean. "Oh, hey, ya know I tried to get a hold of him, but I couldn't. How's he doing, anyway?"

"He's, um, wrapped up in a job right now," Dean said.

"Well, we're missing the old man, but we get Sam. Even trade, huh?" Jerry joked.

Dean and I laughed.

"No, not by a long shot," Sam said.

"I got something I want you guys to hear," Jerry said as he opened the door to an office.

Jerry sat behind his desk, and then Sam sat down in one of the two seats in front of the desk. Dean and I gave each other evil looks and charged toward the other chair. I was about to sit down when Dean picked up the chair and swung it around so he could sit in it backward.

"Aw, no fair," I whined.

Dean laughed and looked up at me. "Tough luck, kid. Maybe next time."

I stuck my tongue at him and shoved his shoulder, and he smiled back. We looked up to see Sam and Jerry giving us shocked looks.

Dean and I looked at each other and scratched our heads before looking back at them.

"Sorry," we said in unison.

Then I rested my arm on Dean's shoulder, leaned against him, and waited for Jerry to show us why we were there.

"Uh, okay, so I listened to this. And, well, it sounded like it was up your alley," Jerry said while putting a CD into his player. "Normally, I wouldn't have access to this. It's the cockpit voice recorder for United Britannia flight 2485. It was one of ours."

We all listened carefully, and then a voice came on that was very broken and crackly. It was hard to hear over a loud whistle in the background that sounded like wind whipping by a window. "Mayday! Mayday! Repeat! This is United Britania 2485— Immediate instruction— Help! United Britania 2485, I copy your message— May be experiencing some mechanical failure—"

The recording ended shortly after the whistling grew louder and higher pitched, there was also a loud growling scream at the end. It was clear that the airplane had gone down.

Jerry nodded when Sam and Dean gave each other a look.

"Took off from here, crashed about two hundred miles South," Jerry said, "Now, they're saying mechanical failure. Cabin depressurized somehow. Nobody knows why. Over a hundred people on board. Only seven got out alive. Pilot was one. His name is Chuck Lambert. He's a good friend of mine. Chuck is, uh..." He sighed. "Well, he's pretty broken up about it. Like it was his fault."

"You don't think it was?" Sam asked.

Jerry shook his head. "No, I don't."

"Jerry, we're gonna need passenger manifests, um, a list of survivors," Sam said.

Jerry nodded. "All right."

"And, uh, anyway, we can take a look at the wreckage?" Dean asked.

"The other stuff is no problem." Jerry sighed. "But the wreckage... the NTSB has it locked down in an evidence warehouse. No way I've got that kind of clearance."

Dean nodded. "No problem."


Sam and I leaned up against the car, waiting for Dean to come out of the Copy Jack we were parked in front of. They had to print out new IDs for the job, but Dean was taking forever. He finally walked out at the same time as a woman was walking in.

The woman smiled at Dean. "Hey."

Dean smiled and checked her out as he held the door for her. Then he made his way over to us.

Sam put his arms out in frustration. "You've been in there forever."

Dean held up two IDs. "You can't rush perfection."

Sam looked at them carefully. "Homeland Security?" He took one of the IDs. "That's pretty illegal... even for us."

"Yeah, well, it's something new." Dean shrugged. "Ya know? People haven't seen it a thousand times."

We got into the Impala

"All right, so, what do you got?" Dean asked.

"Well, there's definitely EVP on the cockpit voice recording," Sam said.

"Yeah?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, actually Maddi pointed it out to me. Listen," Sam said as he clicked the tape recorder on.

Dean looked in the rear-view mirror and winked at me. I smiled back, and the recording started. I sat forward, resting my arms and chin on the front seat and listened.

Sam had edited the tape, so all you could hear was the EVP, and a scratchy voice came through, "No survivors!"

"'No survivors'?" Dean asked, "What's that supposed to mean? There were seven survivors."

Sam shrugged. "Got me."

"So, what are you thinking? A haunted flight?" Dean asked.

"There's a long history of spirits and death omens on planes and ships, like phantom travelers," Sam said.

Dean nodded. "Mm-hmm."

"Or remember flight 401?" Sam asked.

"Right." Dean nodded. "The one that crashed, the airline salvaged some of its parts, put it in other planes, then the spirit of the pilot and co-pilot haunted those flights."

"Right," Sam said, "Maybe we got a similar deal."

"All right, so, survivors, which one do you want to talk to first?" Dean asked as he pulled out the passenger list.

"Third on the list: Max Jaffey," Sam said, pointing to the name on the paper.

"Why him?" Dean asked.

"Well, for one, he's from around here. And two, if anyone saw anything weird, he did," Sam said.

Dean furrowed his brow. "What makes you say that?"

Sam shrugged. "Well, I spoke to his mother... and she told me where to find him."

"All right, let's go," Dean said as he started the car.


We arrived at Riverfront Psychiatric Hospital, where Max had been staying since the plane crash. It was a big stone building that looked more like a botanical garden than a psychiatric hospital.

Dean turned to me. "All right, Mads—"

"Yeah, I know the drill. I stay here, and you guys get to do all the fun stuff." I joked but was still slightly upset.

Dean smirked, and Sam looked at me with sympathetic eyes before they got out of the car.

While I waited, I decided to climb over into the front seat and look through Dean's box of cassettes, I chose one and put it in the player. As I listened, I opened the glove compartment to see what was inside. I saw a box of IDs and several cell phones. I pulled out the box and dug through the IDs, Dean, and Dad had several FBI badges, all with names of musicians or actors. How no one realized these badges and their names were fake, I could never understand, but people bought it, and I wasn't going to argue with that.

I jumped as the passenger door opened, not expecting my brothers to be back so quickly. I looked up and saw Sam looking down at me with a curious expression.

Dean sat down next to me. "What are you doing?" He put the IDs back in the box and then took the box from me.

"I was just looking," I said innocently.

Dean put the box back in the glove compartment. "That's fine. We just have to be careful and make sure no one is around when we have those out. Okay?"

I nodded. "Okay."

"All right, kid. We have to go." Dean smiled and ruffled my hair.

As I moved to climb back over the seats when I heard Dean clear his throat. I turned to him, rolling my eyes because I knew exactly what he was going to say.

"You're going to scuff Baby's seats," he said as I mockingly lip-synced to his complaint. "If you already know what I'm going to say, then you should know not to do it."

"Fine," I said as I got out of the car. I smirked up at Sam, he smiled back and opened my door for me.

We both got in the car, and Dean drove away.

"So, did Max tell you guys anything new?" I asked curiously.

"Well, he told us that one of the passengers on the flight had black eyes. He said that the man got out of his seat and opened the emergency exit," Dean said.

"What? Isn't that pretty much impossible mid-flight?" I asked in shock.

Sam looked back at me. "Yeah, there is about two-tons of pressure on the door while the planes in the air."

"So... what are you guys thinking? Demon, maybe?" I asked curiously.

Sam gave Dean a look. "Let's not skip to that conclusion yet."

I sighed and sat back in my seat, waiting to arrive at our next destination.


We pulled up in front of a cookie-cutter house, and Sam looked up at it. "So here we are. George Phelps, seat 20C."

"Hmm." Dean shook his head. "Man, I don't care how strong you are. Even yoked up on PCP or something, no way you can open up an emergency door during a flight."

"Not if you're human." Sam shrugged. "But maybe this guy George was something else. Some kind of creature, maybe, in human form."

"Or maybe a demon," I mumbled under my breath, a little annoyed.

"Does that look like a creature's lair to you?" Dean asked, not hearing me, and pointing up to the house.

It was a perfectly normal looking house in a nice neighborhood. Dean was right, there was no reason to think a creature lived in a place like that. Which was all the more reason to believe that I was right.

The boys turned to me, but before they could say anything, I put my hand up. "Don't worry, I will wait here for you guys to get back."

They both gave me a confused look.

"What?" I asked.

"You just seem upset about something," Dean said.

I shrugged. "No, I'm fine, honestly."

They nodded and then got out of the Impala. I watched as they walked up the stairs to the front door, they rang the doorbell, and a woman let them in shortly after. As they disappeared into the house, I heard a scream ring through the air to the left of the car. My heart pounded, and I snapped my head to the left to look out of the window. Then I heard another scream and took a breath of relief when I realized the screams were coming from kids chasing each other around at the park. I hunched over, putting my elbows on my knees and rubbed my face. I wished that I didn't always automatically think the worst possible thing could be happening. I wished that I could run around like that and play with kids my age, but knowing the things I know about the world, it was just impossible for me to be carefree like that.

I jumped and gasped when the doors of the Impala opened. My heart raced again until I saw my brother's faces. Then I saw how concerned they looked.

I giggled and smiled at them. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Dean furrowed his brow. "You just jumped a mile because we got in the car."

"Yeah, what's going on with you today?" Sam asked, concerned.

"Guys, I'm fine, I just didn't think you would be back so quickly," I said and watched as their faces lightened. "So, what did you find out?"

Dean shook his head, looking slightly disappointed. "We found out George was a middle-aged dentist with an ulcer." He shrugged and looked over at Sam. "Not exactly evil personified. You know what we need to do is get inside that NTSB warehouse, check out the wreckage."

Sam nodded. "Okay. But if we're gonna go that route, we'd better look the part."

I smiled a devilish smile and rubbed my hands together. "This is going to be fun."

Dean glared at Sam. "Why does she look so excited?"


We pulled up in front of a suit rental shop called MORT's for Style. We all got out of the car and walked in, Sam went to talk to one of the employees while Dean and I decided to adventure around the store. We stopped in front of a display that had clip-on bow ties and top hats. Dean grabbed one of the bow ties and put it on. I decided to grab one of the top hats and put it on his head. He looked at himself in the small mirror sitting on the display. Then he turned to me, raising his eyebrows and smirking. I shook my head and punched his shoulder lightly. Dean laughed and ruffled my hair, and then we heard Sam yell for us.

When Dean and I walked up to Sam, he was standing next to one of the employees who was holding suits for the boys to try on. I spotted his name tag, which read, Chris. Then I realized Chris and Sam were both giving Dean weird looks. I turned to him and saw that he still had the top hat and bow tie on. I giggled, taking the hat off his head. Realization crossed Dean's face, and he gave Sam and Chris a shrug and took off his bow tie and handed it to me. Chris handed Sam and Dean their suits and pointed them to the dressing rooms. Once they left, Chris turned to me and held out his hand, giving me an annoyed look.

I handed him the hat and tie. "Sorry." I smiled and laughed nervously.

He apparently wasn't amused as he pursed his lips and raised an eyebrow at me before huffing away to put the items back on the display.

I found a seat and waited for my brothers to come out of their dressing rooms. After several minutes of faint groans and whines that sounded like they were mostly coming from Dean's room, they finally emerged.

They both came out wearing crisp black suits with white shirts. I gave them a huge smile and walked over to them.

"Aw, you guys look so adorable," I teased as I adjusted their collars and fixed their hair.

"Stop," Dean whined as he pushed my hands away.

Sam and I both laughed at him.

We heard Chris clear his throat from behind the counter, and Sam walked over to pay. When he was finished, we all walked out.

"Man, I look like one of the Blues Brothers," Dean whined.

"No, you don't." Sam chuckled. "You look more like a... seventh-grader at his first dance."

"Oh, stop. You both look just fine," I said, patting Dean on the shoulder.

Dean looked down at himself and sighed. "I hate this thing."

"Hey. You want into that warehouse or not?" Sam asked.

Dean frowned and huffed away, getting into the Impala and starting it. Sam and I looked at each other and laughed before following Dean.


We pulled up to the warehouse and parked toward the back of the building. Sam dug through the box of IDs, searching for their homeland security badges.

Dean turned to me. "Can you hand me that?" he asked, pointing to a small black bag on the floor behind Sam's seat.

I picked it up and passed it to him. He unzipped it and pulled out an old Walkman.

"What is that?" Sam asked, confused.

"It's an EMF meter," Dean said proudly, "Reads electromagnetic frequencies."

"Yeah, I know what an EMF meter is, but why does that one look like a busted-up Walkman?" Sam asked, furrowing his brow at the contraption.

"'Cause that's what I made it out of. It's homemade." Dean grinned, clearly proud of his creation.

"Yeah, I can see that," Sam said sarcastically.

Dean's grin slowly faded from his face, looking slightly hurt by Sam's comment. "All right, let's go, man." He got out of the car and waited for Sam.

Sam looked back at me. "We'll be right back. I want to make this quick."

I smiled and nodded at him, and he quickly got out of the car and headed toward the entrance with Dean.

While I waited, I decided to get out and stretch my legs a little. Given the fact that we had parked toward the back of the building, I wasn't worried about anyone seeing me. I walked around to the back of the car and decided to lay down on the trunk.

After a few minutes, I noticed a black SUV driving up toward the front of the warehouse. I got down and hid behind the car, so whoever was in the car wouldn't see me. I watched as two men got out of the car wearing suits, just like Sam and Dean. I knew this couldn't be good.

I hopped into the front of the car, searching through the glove compartment for a phone to call one of my brothers. First, I dialed Dean's number, and once it started ringing, I hung up because I looked over and realized his phone was sitting on the seat, vibrating next to me. I quickly dialed Sam's number and then groaned in frustration when I heard vibrating coming from within the glove compartment. I threw the phone back into the glove compartment and slammed it shut.

Suddenly, an alarm sounded, and my heart started pounding. How could they both forget to bring a phone? I literally could do nothing but sit and wait to see if they would actually make it out of the building.

Then two men in suits caught my eye as they climbed and jumped over a security gate. I sighed with relief and watched as they ran to the car. I didn't bother getting into the back, and once they got to the car, they didn't bother asking me to. Dean threw his suit jacket into the car and onto my lap and started the Impala. Once Sam got in, Dean took off.

"Okay, next time I am going to personally make sure you both have a phone on you," I snapped.

"Why?" Dean laughed.

"Are you kidding me?" I smacked his arm. "I saw guys in suits walk into the building. I tried to call both of you, and neither of you had a phone. If you had phones, I could've at least warned you, and maybe you wouldn't have been so close to getting caught. That. Is. Why." I glared at Dean.

"Okay, okay," Dean said, slightly taken aback by my annoyance. "We're sorry. We won't forget again."

"Promise?" I asked with an attitude.

"Promise." Dean laughed.

"Look at this," Sam said. He was now leaning over toward me with his left arm along the back of my seat. In his right hand, he was holding a petri dish in front of me.

I grabbed it from him and looked inside, there was yellow powder in it. "What is it?" I asked.

Sam shrugged. "We aren't sure. It was on the emergency door, so we thought we should find out."

"How are we going to do that?" I asked.

"We're gonna go visit Jerry," Dean said.


When we arrived at the hangar, Dean called Jerry to let him know we were there and what we had with us. Once Dean got off the phone, we headed into the hangar to Jerry's office.

"Hey, guys. What do you have for me?" Jerry asked, pointing to the petri dish in Sam's hand.

"We aren't sure," Sam said and handed Jerry the dish.

"All right, give me a sec." Jerry took the dish and walked behind his desk. He took some powder out and put it on a microscope slide and slid it under his microscope. He looked into it for a few seconds and shrugged. "Huh. This stuff is covered in sulfur."

Sam furrowed his brow. "You're sure?"

"Take a look for yourself," Jerry said, gesturing to the microscope.

Suddenly there was a loud bang outside of the office, and a man yelled, "You effin' piece of crap!"

"If you will excuse me, I have an idiot to fire," Jerry said and then walked out.

"Hmm. Ya know, there's not too many things that leave behind a sulfuric residue," Dean said as he walked over to the microscope.

"Demonic possession?" Sam asked.

I sighed and looked at Dean. "I hate to say it, but I told you so."

Sam put his hand on my head and then squeezed my shoulder. "I know, I'm sorry."

"It would explain how a mortal man would have the strength to open up an emergency hatch," Dean said.

Sam nodded. "If the guy was possessed, it's possible."

"This goes way beyond floating over a bed or barfing pea soup." Dean scoffed. "I mean, it's one thing to possess a person, but to use them to take down an entire airplane?"

"You ever heard of something like this before?" Sam asked.

Dean shook his head. "Never."

"All right." Sam sighed. "Time to do some research."


Back at the motel, Dean and I sat on his bed with a pile of books spread out in front of us, reading through them for anything we could find. Sam sat at the table with his computer reading articles online.

"So, every religion in every world culture has the concept of demons and demonic possession, right?" Sam asked and shrugged. "I mean Christian, Native American, Hindu, you name it."

Dean nodded. "Yeah, but none of them describe anything like this."

"Well, that's not exactly true," Sam said, "You see according to Japanese beliefs, certain demons are behind certain disasters, both natural and man-made. One causes earthquakes, another causes disease—"

"And this one causes plane crashes?" Dean asked, getting up and walking over to Sam. "All right, so, what? We have a demon that's evolved with the times and found a way to ratchet up the body count?"

"Yeah." Sam nodded. "Ya know, who knows how many planes it's brought down before this one?"

Dean snorted and turned away from Sam, shaking his head.

"What?" Sam asked.

"I don't know, man." Dean shrugged. "This isn't our normal gig. I mean, demons, they don't want anything, just death, and destruction for its own sake. This is big. And I wish Dad was here." He sighed.

I put my head down, wishing the same thing.

"Yeah." Sam nodded. "Me too."

Ring! Ring!

Dean answered his phone, "Hello?" (...) "Oh, hey, Jerry." (...) "Wha— Jerry, I'm sorry. What happened?" (...) "Where'd this happen?" (...) "I'll try to ignore the irony in that." (...) "Nothing. Jerry, hang in there, all right? We'll catch up with you soon." He hung up and looked at us.

"Another crash?" Sam asked.

"Yeah. Let's go." Dean sighed.

"Where?" Sam asked.

"Nazareth," Dean said.


We drove past a road sign that read, NAZARETH 3, and we could see black smoke off in the distance. Once we arrived at the crash, Sam and Dean got out and quickly searched around for any clue they could find while I waited in the car. They returned once again with another petri dish with more yellow powder in it. Dean started the car, and we set off back to the hangar to see Jerry.

At the hangar, we hurried in to have Jerry check what we already suspected. Jerry studied the sample under his microscope for a few seconds.

"Sulfur?" Dean asked.

Jerry looked up and nodded.

"Well, that's great." Dean scoffed. "All right, that's two plane crashes involving Chuck Lambert. This demon sounds like it was after him."

Sam gestured to Jerry. "With all due respect to Chuck, if that's the case, that would be the good news."

"What's the bad news?" Dean asked.

"Chuck's plane went down exactly forty minutes into the flight," Sam said, "And get this, so did flight 2485."

"Forty minutes?" Jerry asked, "What does that mean?"

"It's biblical numerology. Ya know Noah's ark, it rained for forty days. The number means death," Dean explained.

"I went back, and there have been six plane crashes over the last decade that all went down exactly forty minutes in," Sam said.

"Any survivors?" Dean asked.

"No." Sam shrugged. "Or not until now, at least, not until flight 2485, for some reason. On the cockpit voice recorder, remember what the EVP said?"

"No survivors," Dean said, and then realization crossed his face. "It's going after all the survivors. It's trying to finish the job."


On our way back to the motel, Sam called around to all the survivors of the crash to make sure they weren't planning on flying anywhere anytime soon.

"Really?" Sam asked. "Well, thank you for taking our survey, and if you do plan to fly, please don't forget your friends at United Britannia Airlines. Thanks." He hung up. "All right. That takes care of Blaine Sanderson and Dennis Holloway. They're not flying anytime soon."

"So, our only wildcard is the flight attendant Amanda Walker," Dean said.

"Right. Her sister Karen said her flight leaves Indianapolis at 8PM. It's her first night back on the job," Sam said.

"That sounds like just our luck." Dean groaned.

Sam sighed. "Dean, this is a five-hour drive, man, even with you behind the wheel—"

"Call Amanda's cell phone again, see if we can't head her off at the pass," Dean suggested.

"I already left her three voice messages. She must have turned her cell phone off." Sam shook his head. "God, we're never gonna make it."

"We'll make it," Dean said as he accelerated.

It was going to be a long ride so, I decided to grab one of the boy's flannels they had thrown in the back to use it as a blanket. I curled up in the backseat, and I fell asleep shortly after that.


I woke up to Sam shaking me. "Sorry, kiddo, but we have to hurry."

I got out of the car, Sam took my hand, and the three of us ran into the airport together. When we got inside, we stopped in front of a giant board that listed times and cities.

Sam pointed up to the board. "Right there. They're boarding in thirty minutes."

"Okay. We still have some cards to play. We need to find a phone," Dean said as he looked around for one, and then we followed him over to a courtesy phone. He picked it up and dialed a number. "Hi. Gate thirteen." (...) "I'm trying to contact an Amanda Walker. She's a flight attendant on flight, um... flight 424."

It was taking a while for someone to get Amanda on the phone, and Dean was starting to get anxious. "Come on," he said, smacking the table next to him. Then he sighed in relief. "Miss Walker. Hi, this is Dr. James Hetfield from St. Francis Memorial Hospital. We have a Karen Walker here." (...) "Nothing serious, just a minor car accident, but she was injured, so—" (...) "You what?" (...) "Uh, well... There must be some mistake."

Sam and I walked closer to Dean to see if we could hear what Amanda was saying.

"Is this one of Vince's friends?" I faintly heard Amanda ask.

"Guilty as charged." Dean chuckled, nervously.

"Wow." Amanda scoffed. "This is unbelievable."

"He's really sorry," Dean said.

"Well, you tell him to mind his own business and stay out of my life, okay?" Amanda snapped.

Dean nodded. "Yes, but... he really needs to see you tonight, so—"

"No, I'm sorry," Amanda said, "It's too late."

"Don't be like that. Come on. The guy's a mess. Really. It's pathetic," Dean said as if he was actually trying to help the guy out.

"Really?" Amanda asked.

Dean nodded. "Oh, yeah."

"Look, I've got to go." Amanda sighed. "Um... tell him to call me when I land."

"No, no." Dean tried to stop her. "Wait, Amanda. Amanda!" he yelled, causing people in the airport to turn and look at us, but it was too late, she already hung up. "Damn it! So close." He slammed the phone back on the wall.

"Now what do we do?" I asked.

"All right, it's time for plan B," Sam said, "We're getting on that plane."

"Whoa, whoa, now just hold on a second," Dean said wide-eyed.

"Dean, that plane is leaving with over a hundred passengers on board, and if we're right, that plane is gonna crash," Sam urged.

"I know." Dean nodded and then pointed at me. "Fine, but she is not going."

"What? Yes, I am," I said as I pushed his hand away.

"No. You're not." Dean shook his head. "There's no way of knowing how this is going to end, and I refuse to put you in danger too."

"Yeah, and I get that." I shrugged. "But if something happens to you guys, I have nothing. I'm completely alone. If you guys go down, I am going down with you. You're just going to have to deal with it."

Sam nodded. "Okay. So, we're all getting on the plane. We need to find that demon and exorcise it. Me and Maddi will go get the tickets." He pointed at Dean. "You get whatever you can out of the trunk. Whatever will make it through security. Meet us back here in five minutes."

Dean didn't move, he just stood there looking at Sam anxiously.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked.

Dean shrugged and shook his head. "No, not really."

"What?" Sam furrowed his brow. "What's wrong?"

"Well, I kind of have this problem with, uh..." Dean motioned soaring with his hands.

"Flying?" Sam asked.

"It's never really been an issue until now," Dean said.

Sam gave him a look. "You're joking, right?"

"Do I look like I'm joking?" Dean snapped, "Why do you think I drive everywhere, Sam?"

"All right. Uh, I'll go." Sam lightened up, seeing that Dean was actually afraid.

Dean furrowed his brow. "What?"

"I'll do this one on my own," Sam said, "You and Maddi stay behind."

I crossed my arms, angry because I finally had a chance to be a part of a case, and now I was getting kicked out.

"What are you, nuts?" Dean asked. "You said it yourself, the plane's gonna crash."

"Dean, we can do it together, or I can do this one by myself." Sam shook his head. "I'm not seeing a third option here."

I waved my arms in front of them, trying to get them to stop arguing. "We don't really have time for this. We have to get on the plane, that's the only chance it has of not going down. Otherwise, all those people are going to die."

"Come on!" Dean yelled, knowing me and Sam were right. "Really? Man..."

"All right, let's go. Meet back here in five minutes," Sam said as he put his arm around my shoulders.

Dean frowned and ran off to get anything we might need from the car. Sam grabbed my hand, and we ran off to get the tickets. Once we got them, we ran back to our meeting spot, and Dean was already standing there waiting for us. We were running out of time, so we hurried to the gate, hoping to get on the plane as soon as we got there. The woman at the entrance took our tickets, and we walked onto the jet bridge.

"Don't be scared, Maddison," Dean said as he grabbed my hand.

I was going to make a smart remark, but then I looked up at him and realized he was shaking with fear. If Dean needed to feel like he was protecting me to make himself feel better, I was just going to let him do that.

"Okay," I said, putting my unoccupied hand on top of his and rested my head on his arm as we walked.

Sam looked back and gave me a concerned look. I shrugged at him, not really knowing what to do.


When we walked onto the plane, a flight attendant looked at our tickets and pointed us in the direction of our seats. I sat in the window seat, Sam sat in the middle, and Dean sat in the aisle seat.

I opened the window and looked out at the wing of the plane, but I turned back to see Dean was staring out of the window, completely terrified. I decided to close it, and once I did, Dean frantically grabbed the safety card that was in the pocket on the back of the seat in front of him.

"Just try to relax," Sam said.

"Just try to shut up," Dean snapped.

Sam shook his head and smirked over at me. I smiled back and then turned to look through what was in my seat pocket, hoping to find something more relaxing for Dean. I dug through it and found a magazine with cars all over it and felt that it would be better than a safety card that was just making him more nervous. I leaned over Sam and grabbed the card out of Dean's hand.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Dean asked, trying to grab the card, but too afraid to move too much.

I put the magazine in his hands. "Here, read this instead." I smiled at him and patted his cheek.

Dean sighed and flipped through the magazine anxiously, stopping at moments to look closer at different cars. I sat back in my seat and looked at Sam and shrugged.

Once the plane started moving, Dean shoved the magazine into the pocket in front of him and frantically grabbed the arms of his seat, holding on for dear life. I shook my head and covered my mouth, trying not to laugh at him.

"What?" Dean whisper-shouted at me, only moving his eyes to look at me.

I started to giggle. "Nothing."

I heard Sam try to choke back a laugh, and I smacked him in the knee because if he started laughing, I was going to lose it.

"Stop moving so much," Dean growled.

I looked over and noticed he was jumping at every small noise or movement that the plane was making. "Sorry," I said and sat back while I waited for the plane to ascend.

After the plane officially was flying, I heard Dean humming to himself.

"You're humming Metallica?" Sam asked, looking over at Dean.

"Calms me down," Dean growled.

"Look, man, I get you're nervous, all right?" Sam scoffed, shaking his head. "But you got to stay focused."

Dean nodded. "Okay."

"I mean, we got thirty-two minutes and counting to track this thing down, or whoever it's possessing, anyway, and perform a full-on exorcism," Sam said, trying to get Dean's head in the game.

"Yeah, on a crowded plane. That's gonna be easy," Dean said sarcastically.

"Just take it one step at a time, all right?" Sam asked, "Now, who is it possessing?"

"It's usually gonna be somebody with some sort of weakness, ya know, a chink in the armor that the demon can worm through," Dean said as he tried to focus on the task at hand. "Somebody with an addiction or some sort of emotional distress."

"Well, this is Amanda's first flight after the crash," Sam said, "If I were her, I'd be pretty messed up."

"Mm-hmm." Dean nodded and turned to the flight attendant who was standing next to us. "Excuse me. Are you Amanda?"

"No, I'm not," she said with a horribly fake smile.

"Oh, my mistake." Dean nodded and smiled.

"Mm-hmm," she said and walked away.

Dean looked toward the back of the plane. "All right, well, that's got to be Amanda back there, so I'll go talk to her, and, uh, I'll get a read on her mental state."

"What if she's already possessed?" Sam asked.

"There's ways to test that," Dean said, and he leaned forward to grab a Virgin Mary-shaped bottle of water out of his bag. "I brought holy water."

"No," Sam said as he snatched the bottle away and tucked it into his hoodie. "I think we can go more subtle. If she's possessed, she'll flinch at the name of God."

Dean nodded. "Oh. Nice."

"Hey," Sam said before Dean left.

"What?" Dean asked, ducking back down to talk to Sam.

"Say it in Latin," Sam said.

"I know," Dean said and turned to leave again.

"Okay." Sam faced forward again and then turned urgently. "Hey!"

"What?!" Dean came back and ducked down to Sam.

"Uh, in Latin, it's 'Christo,'" Sam said.

"Dude, I know!" Dean growled. "I'm not an idiot!" Then he stormed away.

I laughed. "You guys are ridiculous."

The plane rumbled, and I turned to look over my seat at Dean, who was now slightly hunched over leaning against someone's seat. Once the plane stopped rumbling, he stood up and smacked the top of someone's seat before continuing to Amanda.

After a few minutes, Dean returned. "All right, well, she's got to be the most well-adjusted person on the planet."

"You said 'Christo'?" Sam asked.

"Yeah." Dean nodded as he sat back down.

"And?" Sam asked.

"There's no demon in her." Dean shook his head. "There's no demon getting in her."

"So, if it's on the plane, it can be anyone." Sam shrugged. "Anywhere."

The plane started to shake a lot, and Dean grabbed hold of the arms of his seat again. I grabbed on to Sam's hand because even though I wasn't as scared as Dean, the plane was shaking a lot, and knowing the plane was going to go down made it worse.

"Come on! That can't be normal!" Dean shouted.

"Hey, hey, it's just a little turbulence," Sam said, reassuring Dean and rubbing my hand with his thumb.

"Sam, this plane is going to crash, okay?" Dean growled. "So, quit treating me like I'm friggin' four."

"You need to calm down," Sam said.

Dean shook his head. "Well, I'm sorry, I can't."

"Yes, you can," Sam said calmly.

"Dude stop the touchy-feely, self-help yoga crap. It's not helping," Dean said, frustrated.

"Listen, if you're panicked, you're wide open to demonic possession, so you need to calm yourself down. Right now," Sam said, leaning closer to Dean.

Dean inhaled slowly while making a goofy face.

"Good." Sam nodded and then turned to me. "Now, you too."

I inhaled slowly, as well.

"Good. Now, I found an exorcism in here that I think is gonna work," Sam said and let go of my hand so he could flip through one of the books Dean had packed in his bag. "The Rituale Romanum."

"What do we have to do?" Dean asked.

"It's two parts," Sam said, "The first part expels the demon from the victim's body. It makes it manifest, which actually makes it more powerful."

Dean furrowed his brow. "More powerful?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah."

"How?" Dean asked.

"Well, it doesn't need to possess someone anymore," Sam said, "It can just wreak havoc on its own."

"Oh." Dean nodded and then furrowed his brow. "And why is that a good thing?"

"Well, because the second part sends the bastard back to hell once and for all," Sam said.

"First things first, we got to find it," Dean said as he leaned forward to his bag. He searched through it until he pulled out his homemade EMF meter. Then he got up and started walking up and down the aisles of the plane, waving the meter in front of everyone he passed.

When he made it to the front of the plane, Sam decided to join Dean. As Sam put his hand on Dean's shoulder, he jumped. I moved to Dean's seat so I could see them better. I could see that Dean's EMF meter spiked shortly after the co-pilot exited the bathroom and headed toward the cockpit. Dean said something to him, and the co-pilot turned back around and flashed black eyes toward them and then entered the cockpit and closed the door. Then the boys stormed to the back of the plane.

"She's not gonna believe this," Sam said as they walked by.

"Twelve minutes, dude," Dean snapped as they continued to the back of the plane to Amanda.

When they reached the back, they disappeared behind the curtains, I watched and waited, hoping something would happen soon given the fact that we were running out of time.

Shortly after, Amanda walked out from behind the curtains and headed toward the front of the plane. I looked back and saw Sam and Dean peeking out from behind the curtain. Dean gestured to me to stay in my seat, so I knew something was going to happen soon. I looked back toward the front, and the co-pilot came out of the cockpit and walked to the back with Amanda. Sam and Dean disappeared behind the curtains again, and I took that as an opportunity to follow Amanda and the co-pilot into the back. I watched as the co-pilot got ripped behind the curtains, and Amanda stopped and gasped. I pushed past her and watched as Dean punched the co-pilot, taped his mouth shut with duct tape, and pinned him to the ground.

"Wait. What are you doing?" Amanda asked in shock. "You said you were just gonna talk to him."

"We are gonna talk to him," Dean said as he held the co-pilot down for Sam to splash holy water on his skin, which started to sizzle.

"Oh, my god." Amanda gasped. "What's wrong with him?"

"Look. We need you calm," Sam said, "We need you outside the curtain."

Amanda shook her head. "Well, I don't underst— I don't know—"

"Don't let anybody in, okay?" Sam asked her, "Can you do that? Can you do that?" He waited for her to say something, but she was just frozen. "Amanda?"

"Okay." Amanda nodded. "Okay," she said and then walked out of the room.

The co-pilot struggled around, and I went to stand by Sam and Dean.

Dean punched the demon again. "Maddison! What the hell are you doing back here?! Go back to the seats!"

"No! I want to help!" I yelled.

"Okay. Here, take this," Sam said, handing me the bottle of holy water, which I then sprayed on the man thrashing around beside me.

Dean shook his head, angry that I wouldn't leave, and that Sam was encouraging me to stay. "Hurry up, Sam. I don't know how much longer I can hold him."

Sam opened the book and started reading, "Regna terrae, cantate Deo, psallite Domino..."

The demon broke free and shoved Dean off him and into the wall. He then hit the book out of Sam's hand and the bottle out of mine and then pushed us both against the wall. Dean got up and tackled the demon again. Sam laid there for a moment, stunned by what had just happened. I rubbed the back of my head, which was now throbbing from hitting the wall. Sam got up, grabbed the book, and picked up where he had left off. The demon gained his strength back and knocked Dean off him again.

The demon reached over and grabbed Sam by the collar of his shirt. "I know what happened to your girlfriend! She must have died screaming! Even now, she's burning!"

I got up and grabbed the holy water, squirting the demon so he would stop saying those horrible things to Sam. The demon then directed his attention to me. At that moment, I realized I made the wrong decision until Dean tackled him down to the ground again. Sam just sat there, not knowing how to react.

"Sam!" Dean yelled, trying to snap him out of it.

Sam shook his head and began reading again. Once he finished, he put the book down and helped Dean pin down the demon, who kicked the book under the curtain and out of the room.

"I got him," Sam said as he pinned the demon's arm down.

A low growl came from the demon as a cloud of black smoke poured out of the co-pilot's body. As it left his body, the co-pilot went limp, and the black cloud disappeared into a vent in the corner of the room.

"Where'd it go?" Sam asked, looking up at the vent.

"It's in the plane. Hurry up," Dean said urgently, "We got to finish it."

Sam and Dean got up to exit the room in search of the demon when suddenly we all went flying against the walls, hitting my head again. The plane was dipping and heaving violently, and people started screaming. I couldn't stand my ground long enough to stay on my feet. I watched as Sam struggled to make his way out of the room to search for the book. I looked over and saw Dean screaming as he splayed himself against the exit door. I crawled my way over to Dean continually getting knocked around the whole way, but once I made it to him, I finally had something steady to hold on to. When I reached him, he grabbed onto me, holding me tight to his chest.

After a few minutes, a bright electrical charge ran through the entire plane, and I grabbed onto Dean tighter. He rubbed my back and kissed the top of my head, knowing full well that we were most likely about to die. Then suddenly the plane leveled out, and we could hear random voices asking if everyone was okay. Dean and I both took deep sighs of relief before letting each other go and walking out to the main area of the plane. Sam stood up and looked back at us, I walked over and hugged him. He ruffled my hair and hugged me back before the three of us went back to our seats.

Everyone adjusted themselves, and there was a unison of sighs throughout the plane. Then a voice came over the loudspeaker, "Sorry, everyone. We hit some slight turbulence. Unfortunately, due to safety concerns, we are turning around. I apologize for the inconvenience, folks."

I heard some scoffs throughout the plane, as people were annoyed that the pilot called what we just went through 'slight turbulence.'

The rest of the flight was quiet and solemn, mostly because people were still in shock. When we arrived at the airport, the flight attendants tried the best they could to keep everyone in an organized fashion while exiting the plane.


When we walked off the jet bridge into the airport, there were FBI agents everywhere asking people questions about the flight.

We walked by the co-pilot being questioned. "Sir, can you tell me what happened?"

"I don't know," the co-pilot answered nervously, "I was walking through the airport, then it all goes blank. I don't even remember getting on the plane."

We kept walking and passed Amanda being questioned by another agent. "Anything else?" He looked up from his notepad.

"No, that's all," she said. We caught her eye as we walked by, and she mouthed 'Thank you' to us.

Dean swung his arm around my shoulders. "Let's get out of here."

We all looked at each other and then walked toward the exit, Sam had an upset look on his face.

"You okay?" Dean asked, concerned.

Sam stopped suddenly in front of us. "Dean, it knew about Jessica."

Dean shook his head. "Sam, these things, they— they read minds. They lie. All right? That's all it was." He put his hands on Sam's shoulders, forcing him to make eye contact with him.

"Yeah." Sam nodded unconvincingly.

"Come on." Dean smacked Sam lightly on the shoulder and then replaced his arm around me.

We continued out of the airport together and made it back to the Impala.

"Let's not ever fly again," I said, once we got in.

"Yeah, I agree with that." Dean laughed, looking at me in the rear-view mirror.

Sam didn't say anything and just stared out of his window. Dean started the car and drove over to the airplane hangar to see Jerry one last time before we headed out.


Jerry was already waiting for us outside of the hangar as he had heard what had happened with the airplane. When we parked, he walked over to us, and we got out of the car to greet him.

"Nobody knows what you guys did, but I do. A lot of people could have been killed," Jerry said as he held his hand out for each of us to shake. "Your dad's gonna be real proud."

"We'll see you around, Jerry," Sam said, and we all parted ways to get back into the car as Jerry began walking off.

"Ya know, Jerry," Dean said.

Jerry turned around. "Yeah?"

"I meant to ask you, how did you get my cell phone number, anyway?" Dean asked. "I've only had it for like six months."

"Your dad gave it to me," Jerry said.

Sam furrowed his brow. "What?"

"When did you talk to him?" Dean asked.

I looked at Jerry, my heart pounding while I waited for the answer.

"I mean, I didn't exactly talk to him, but I called his number. His voice message said to give you a call." Jerry nodded and then turned around. "Thanks again, guys."

We all exchanged looks before getting into the Impala. Dean started the car, and we drove to the exit of the airport. He then turned and parked on a dirt road just outside.

"This doesn't make any sense, man," Sam said, "I've called Dad's number like fifty times. It's been out of service."

Dean dialed a number into his phone and then put it on speaker.

Dad's voice came through the phone, "This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son, Dean. 785-555-0179. He can help."

My eyes teared up at the sound of my dad's voice. I noticed the muscles in Sam's jaw twitch, he didn't say anything and just turned to look out of his window. Dean put the phone down and sighed before starting the car. As Dean drove off, I wiped the one tear that managed to escape my eyes, and I looked up to see Dean looking back at me in the rear-view mirror, concerned.

I leaned over, resting my elbow on the car door and my head on my hand. I looked out of the window at the open fields that surrounded the airport and watched as a couple planes took off until they disappeared into the distance.