Who's to know if your soul will fade at all
The one you sold to fool the world
You lost your self-esteem along the way
Yeah
Good god you're coming up with reasons
Good god you're dragging it out
Good god it's the changing of the seasons
I feel so raped
So follow me down
And just fake it if you're out of direction
Fake it if you don't belong here
Fake it if you feel like affection
Woah you're such a f***ing hypocrite
And you should know that the lies won't hide your flaws
No sense in hiding all of yours
You gave up on your dreams along the way
LONG-DISTANCE CALL
Beth's POV
Dean was on the phone whilst eating a fast food burger when Sam and I reached him after interviewing a professor who might have had some information on soul contracts and Hell. We'd come up empty handed, and things were starting to get frustrating.
"Yep, I got it. Okay, bye," Dean said, hanging up and simultaneously throwing me a soda as we reached the bench he was sitting on. I caught it and debated whether it was now safe to open without getting it all over my shirt, passing it to Sam with a shrug.
"So?" Dean asked, still chewing on the last of his food.
"So, the professor doesn't know anything," I said with a sigh.
"Shocking," Dean said with an I told you so look at both of us. Sam and I exchanged a glance and I rolled my eyes. "Pack your panties, guys, we're hitting the road," he then announced, walking past us back toward the car.
"What? Where are we going?" I asked, looking over to him with a frown.
"Yeah, what's up?" Sam asked.
Dean stopped to turn and look at us. "That was Bobby. Some banker guy blew his head off in Ohio and he thinks there's a spirit involved."
"So you two were talking a case?" Sam asked.
"No, we were actually talking about our feelings. And then our favourite boy bands. Yeah, we were talking a case!" Dean said sarcastically, walking back toward us. I snickered, shaking my head in amusement, Sam had walked right into that one.
"So a spirit?" I asked, raising my eyebrow at Dean.
"Yeah, the banker was talking about some sort of electrical problems at his pad for like a week. Phone was going haywire, computer flipping on and off," he said.
"Huh..." Sam said, unconvinced.
"This is not ringing your bell?" Dean asked.
"Well, sure it is," I said with a nod. "But Dean, we're already on a case," I added.
"Whose?" Dean asked, looking at me curiously.
"Uh, yours," I said, frowning at him.
"Right. Yeah. Well, you could've fooled me," Dean said, turning and starting to walk away. I stared at him open mouthed, wondering where the attitude had suddenly come from.
"Well what the hell else have we been doing lately other than trying to break your deal?" Sam asked in an irritated tone. Dean stopped and turned back to us with a frustrated look.
"Chasing our tails, that's what," he said with a sigh. "Guys, we've talked to every professor, witch, soothsayer and two-bit carny act in the lower 48. Nobody knows squat! And we can't find Bela, we can't find the Colt. So until we actually find something, I'd like to do my job," he said. He was right about the chasing our tails thing, the last month had just been one failed piece of information after another, we were getting nowhere.
Sam looked at Dean, his eyes determined and stubborn. "There's one thing we haven't tried yet..."
"Sam, no," Dean said, shaking his head.
"We should summon Ruby," Sam said, and even I had to side with Dean on this one.
"I'm not gonna have this fight with you," Dean said, just as stubborn as Sam.
"She said she knows how to save you," Sam said and I rolled my eyes. Because demons didn't lie or anything, on a regular basis!
"Well, she can't," Dean said confidently, looking at Sam.
"Oh really, you know that for sure?" Sam asked.
"I do," Dean said, and I could see it in his eyes, he wasn't making this up.
"How do you know?" I asked curiously, looking at him with narrowed eyes.
Dean turned and looked at me, and there was a flash of something that passed behind those eyes, something I knew immediately he wasn't telling me.
"Because she told me, okay?" He said.
"What?!" Sam questioned, looking at him incredulously.
"She told me. Flat out. That she could not save me," Dean said, and then he looked at me, a resignation filling those hazel eyes of his. "Nobody can."
"And you just somehow neglected to mention this to us?" I asked quietly, the hurt showing in my voice clearly. Dean looked pained and took a step toward me but I stepped back, shaking my head.
"Well, I really don't care what that bitch thinks, and neither should you, so..." he turned away and I stared after him.
"So what, now you're keeping secrets from us, Dean?" Sam interrupted, glaring at his brother.
I scowled, crossing my arms and looking away, still refusing to give up. Demons lied, it was that simple. Ruby was lying, there had to be a way, and I wasn't giving up.
"You really want to talk about who's keeping secrets from who?" Dean snapped back at Sam, who had no comeback for that.
"Yeah, well neither of you can talk, apparently," I said angrily, starting to walk away, needing a moment to myself. I wasn't sure how I was supposed to feel about Dean not telling me what Ruby had said. It wasn't like him to keep secrets, not from me. He and Sam hadn't told me about what happened to Henriksen, Nancy and Phil either until after the wedding, and that hadn't impressed me. I could at least understand why they'd done that: this made no sense at all to me – if Dean didn't care what Ruby had said, why hadn't he told me? Unless he secretly believed her and he'd given up trying to find a way to save himself?
"Beth!" Dean called after me, and I sighed, turning back.
"Come on, I was gonna tell you," he said.
"When Dean? Five minutes before the hellhounds arrive?" I snapped, looking at him dejectedly. Dean sighed, and ran a hand across his face, starting to walk toward me. Sam stalked off in the other direction, throwing his hands up in the air. Dean stopped long enough to call out to him.
"Now where you going?"
"Guess I'm going to Ohio!" Sam said, continuing to walk toward the car.
Dean sighed and turned back to me, moving to stand in front of me.
"You're keeping secrets from me now?" I asked, looking up at him, hurt. He reached out a hand and stroked it softly along my cheek, I sighed and leaned in to the touch, just wanting an explanation.
"I didn't want you to give up hope," he said, looking at me with worried eyes.
"And have you?" I asked, watching him with fresh eyes.
Dean looked at me, his mouth twitching up at the corner, as much to say that he had no answer for that question.
"Yeah... great," I said with a sigh, crossing my arms again.
"Beth..."
"No! You promised me Dean, you said we'd figure this out together, you told me you weren't going to give up, that you weren't going to just leave me here on my own!"
"And we are going to figure it out, I believe in you, I trust you to come up with a way," he said to me.
"Well, what about you?" I asked. "Don't you believe in yourself?"
The look he gave me was clear. He didn't. It was the first time I'd seen that so plainly; he was starting to give up, and it was taking everything he had to hold it together and keep going forward. I suddenly saw just how selfish I'd been lately.
I moved toward him and wrapped my arms tightly around his waist. "Okay," I said, nodding. "Okay. It's all right," I said, looking up and stroking my hand down his face. "I'm not giving up on you, ever. We'll get a lead, there has to be something." It was the first time I'd really ever seen the hesitation, the fear, that he was feeling. It told me just how close he'd been holding things, trying to be strong for the rest of us.
"Listen," he said softly. "If anything happens to me..."
"Nothing is going to happen to you," I interrupted stubbornly and he frowned at me.
"Just humour me," he said. "If anything happens to me, you need to keep away from Ruby, okay? Just, trust me on this, it's not safe to be around her." I nodded, frowning at the declaration and wondering what had brought it on.
"Promise me," he said, peering at me and I tilted my head to the side.
"Yeah, okay, I promise," I said as he wrapped his arms around my neck, pulling me close.
Waters Household
Milan, Ohio
Beth's POV
One thing I did notice: it didn't seem to matter where you lived, how extravagant your house, how foolproof your security, there was always seemed to be something that could get past it. Even when you'd least expect it.
The Waters house was large and well cared for, they lived without want for anything, and I instantly felt out of place, just grateful that we'd taken the time to put on suits to carry out our questioning.
"I found him there," Mrs Waters said, gesturing toward the office behind her and looking at us impatiently.
"Why don't you tell us everything you saw, Mrs Waters," Dean said, nodding at her.
"You mean besides my dead husband?" She asked, crossing her arms and staring at him.
"Just everything else you saw. Please," Sam said gently, turning his puppy dog eyes on her.
She sighed and looked around the room as if reliving the moment. "Blood. Everywhere," she said, waving her hand around. "The phone was ripped from the wall, his favourite scotch on the desk, what else could you possibly want to know?"
"Why was the phone ripped from the wall?" I asked curiously.
"I don't know," she said, almost glaring at me. I raised my eyebrow at her, not backing down from the attitude.
"You mind if I take a look?" I asked sweetly with a smile. She sighed and waved me into the room beyond and I walked past her as she turned back to Sam and Dean.
"I already went over this with the other detectives," she said to them.
"We'll be out of your hair in no time, ma'am," Dean said with a smile, following me into the office with Sam.
I picked up the phone and started to scroll through the memory on the phone display, an odd number that I hadn't come across before popped up and I frowned, gazing at it curiously. It read SHA33. "Ma'am, what time did your husband die?" I asked, looking up at Mrs Waters.
"Sometime after eleven," she said with a sigh.
Dean turned to look at me, and I met his questioning gaze with a tap on the phone display, he nodded slightly to me and then turned back to Mrs Waters.
"What about strange phone calls? Receive any of those lately? Weird interference, static, anything like that?" Dean asked.
She looked at him, hesitating for a moment before answering defensively. "No."
Dean turned his tough cop face on and looked at her sternly. "Mrs Waters, withholding information from the police is a capital offence," he said. Sam cleared his throat from nearby, giving Dean a disapproving look when his brother glanced at him. Dean rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath and turned back to Mrs Waters.
Mrs Waters looked a little uncertain, and then nodded. "A couple of weeks ago, uh... there was this..."
"This what?" Dean prompted.
"I woke up one morning, I heard Ben in the study. I thought he was talking to a woman," she confessed, and I listened intently.
"What made you think that?" I asked curiously.
"Because he kept calling her Linda," she replied, and I nodded. That was a fair call. "The thing is," she continued. "I picked up the other line and nobody was there, Ben was talking to nobody."
"Nothing?" Sam asked.
"Just static," she said.
"Did you ever speak to Ben about this phone call?" Sam asked, following the line of thought.
"No. I should have, but... no," she said, shaking her head, her perfect blond bob moving lightly around her face as she stood there, watching us.
"Did he ever say who Linda was?" Dean asked.
"What difference does it make?" She asked, starting to get upset. "There was nobody on the other end!"
Dean turned to look at me, his gaze intrigued. It was definitely starting to sound like a spirit, Bobby might have been on to something after all.
Motel Room
Beth's POV
Dean was staring intently at the laptop screen while I made coffees for all of us. Sam was sitting sullenly on the bed and staring out the window.
"Linda's a babe. Or was," Dean announced and I picked up his coffee, walking over and placing it on the table while I looked over his shoulder.
"Did you find her?" I asked.
"Yeah, Linda Bateman. She and Ben Waters were high school sweethearts," he answered with a nod. I looked at the screen where there was an article on the screen.
"So what happened?" I asked.
"Drunk driver hit them head on. Ben walked away," Dean said, shaking his head sadly.
"So, what then? Dead flame calls to chat?" Sam asked, looking over at us.
"You would think, but Linda was cremated. So why's she still floating around?" Dean said, getting up and starting to walk around the room, all excess energy and tension. I considered this and couldn't come up with an answer. Neither could Sam.
"You got me," he said.
Dean turned to me with a questioning look. "What about that, uh, caller ID?"
"Mmm," I said, taking a sip of my coffee and sitting down on his vacated seat. "Turns out it's a phone number," I answered.
"No phone number I've ever seen," he said with a frown.
"Yeah, me neither. None of us would have. It's about a century old, back from when phones had cranks," I said with a shrug.
"So why use that number to reach out and touch someone?" He asked, and I shrugged again.
"I have no idea, but we should put a trace on it," I said, tapping on a few keys at the computer and bringing up a website that might be of help.
"Well how the hell are we going to put a trace on something that's over a hundred years old?" Dean asked incredulously.
"I got an idea," I said with a grin.
Phone Company
Beth's POV
We were back in our suits, looking all official and it had worked like a charm.
"We don't get many folks from HQ down here," Clark Adams, someone from middle management, said as he led us downstairs into the basement of the building.
"Yes, well the main office mentioned that there would be a lunch?" Dean said and Sam threw him an incredulous look, rolling his eyes. Dean shrugged and grinned at me.
"Well, I'm sure we can arrange something. The man you want to be speaking to is right this..."
I swiped at a fly as it flew straight at me, getting caught in my hair. It was buzzing away and I grabbed at my hair, suppressing a little shriek. I still couldn't handle bugs very well ever since Dean and I had gone on our first hunt alone and nearly been eaten alive by swarms of them. "Ick, yuck, Dean!" I said, batting at it again, the fly seemed to bury itself further into my hair. I took a breath as Dean stopped, grabbing me by the arms and pulled at the fly that was hopelessly tangled in my curls.
"There," he said, grabbing the fly and tossing it away from us. "You're such a girl," he said with a smirk.
"Shut up!" I said with a shudder.
"Sorry," Clark said to us. "We've got something of a hygiene issue down here if you ask me." He looked at me apologetically and I mentally pulled myself together and shrugged. It was just a fly, nothing to get alarmed over.
Clark opened the door into the basement and called out to the local resident. "Stewie? What did I tell you about keeping this place clean?"
Stewie was a scrawny little guy with dark skin and dark hair that was oily and in desperate need of a wash. His set-up was impressive, with several large computer monitors on top of a large console that looked like it belonged on the starship Enterprise. I looked distastefully around us as it became apparent that almost every surface was strewn with junk food, and flies continued to buzz around Stewie like he was the mothership. He startled as we walked in and started clicking at his screen, trying to close windows that were there.
"Spam mail... spam mail..." he muttered to himself as he closed off windows that looked against company policy, if not semi-illegal.
"Stewie Myers. Mr Campbell, Mr Raimi, and Ms Levy," Clark introduced us as Stewie ignored us and kept clicking at screens.
"I don't know how all this got here..." he mumbled, looking a little alarmed.
Clark reached out and flicked the back of Stewie's head, making him jump.
"From headquarters?" Clark said pointedly to the little guy.
Stewie spun around in his chair and crossed his legs, looking at us nervously as he placed his hands in his lap.
"Give them whatever they need," Clark instructed Stewie.
"Yeah," he said with a nod.
"Thank you," Dean said to Clark with a smile. Clark left the room and Stewie looked at us with a timid smile.
"So...can I help you?" He asked in a strong Indian accent.
Dean looked around to check that Clark was gone and then leaned in to the computer technician with a smirk.
"Is that, ahhhh, busty Asian beauties dot com?" He asked. I stared at him open-mouthed as Stewie looked at him, shaking his head.
"No," he said quickly.
"Oh, me so horny," a woman said on the screen as a website popped up with two Asian women looked seductively at the viewer. Stewie turned quickly, shutting down the screen again and then looked back at Dean.
"Maybe," he admitted.
"A word to the wise? Platinum membership? Worth every penny. Ha?" Dean said, nodding at him knowingly. I huffed a little and Dean caught my incredulous look and shifted uncomfortably, tugging at his tie. "Not that I would know, I mean, not since I entered a serious, long-term relationship with the woman who is now my wife... that is," he quickly said, holding up his left hand and displaying his new wedding ring. I rolled my eyes at the obvious ploy to not get me upset, and admitted, it worked.
"Right," I said. "Of course not," I raised my eyebrow and grinned at him. This had also come up when we first encountered the Trickster and I'd been made well aware that he hadn't been on porn sites for a long, long time – there hadn't really been any reason given that I wasn't an unwilling participant if he was ever in the mood. If he had been watching porn it had been incredibly secretive given the amount of time we actually spent in each other's presence.
"We're here to trace a number," Sam interrupted, rolling his eyes at the both of us.
I handed Stewie a piece of paper with SHA33 written on it.
"Where did you get this?" He asked, looking up at us.
"Off caller ID," Sam answered.
"Oh no, that's impossible," he said, shaking his head.
"It hasn't been used in a few years, we know," Dean said with a nod.
"A few years? It's prehistoric. Trust me, nobody is using this number anymore," Stewie said to us.
"Sure. Could you run it anyway?" Sam said dismissively, looking over at the computer technician.
Stewie glared at him. "Sure. Why don't I just rearrange my whole life first," he said in a snarky tone, and I raised my hand at Dean, who took a step in to start berating the guy. Dean cocked an eyebrow at me and then the boys stepped back, letting me take over with the lecture.
"Listen, uh... Stewie," I said, walking over to him and flipping a piece of onion that had lodged itself on his shoulder to the floor. "You got like six kinds of employee code violations down here," I leaned down, looking at him sternly, resting my hands on his chair arm and one of the consoles where there wasn't junk food. "Not to mention the sickening porn that is clogging up your hard drive – your company owned hard drive I might add. So, I suggest, that when my partner says run the number, you run the damn number! Am I making myself clear?"
Stewie nodded at me, sitting back in his chair and then spinning back to the computer screens. "Okay, whatever, geez!"
I stepped back, grinning at the boys and then grimaced as I pulled my hand away from the console. I'd put it in some kind of sticky spill from a soda, and now had that residue on my hand. I pulled a face of disgust, holding up my hand and Dean whipped a cloth out of his pocket, handing it to me with a shake of his head as I walked back to them.
Stewie clicked a few buttons and one of his screens started to fill with a long list of numbers.
"Holy crap," he said in surprise.
"What?" Sam asked, taking a step closer.
"I can't tell you where the number comes from, but I can tell you where it's been going," he said. I looked up from trying to clean off my hand and exchanged a glance with Dean.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
Stewie pushed print and the list of numbers started to spit out of the printer. He got up and moved to collect the paper, handing it to Sam.
"Ten different houses in the past few weeks, all got calls from the same number," he said. Sam looked at us with a raised eyebrow, as I froze, curiously looking at the paper he had in his hands. Stewie sighed and walked back to his console, sitting down and staring at the blank screen.
"So, are we done here? Cause I was... sort of... busy?" He asked finally.
"Right..." I said with a smirk.
"Yeah, we're done," Dean said, rolling his eyes. "But clean this place up a bit would ya? It's like a damn bio hazard down here. Don't make us send down a clean-up crew!" Stewie nodded frantically as we turned to leave, all three of us trying to suppress a couple of laughs.
Suburban Neighbourhood
Sam's POV
We'd decided to split up, I took five of the houses, Dean and Beth took the other five. I pulled my new rental car up to the last house on the list and made my way up the footpath to the front door and knocking. The door was opened by a middle-aged man who was joined by his young son.
"Yeah?"
"Hello sir, I am with the phone company?" I said with a smile.
"Uh, we didn't uh, call the phone company," the man said, catching the ball that his son bounced next to him.
"Oh no sir, we're calling you. We've had a lot of complaints from the neighbourhood lately," I said.
"Complaints?" He asked.
"Yes sir. Dropped calls, static, maybe even strange voices on the other end of the line?" I said, prompting for information and looking for a tell that he was lying to me.
A teenage girl stepped into the hallway as I finished what I was saying and looked a little startled, I glanced at her and she looked at me.
"No, we haven't had any of that here," the man said with a certainty.
"Nothing?" I asked, looking back at the girl again who said nothing, just stared at me in shock.
"No," the man said.
"Okay. Great, just thought we'd check, thanks," I said, frowning a little.
"No problem," he answered, and turned away with his son. "Come on, Simon."
They closed the door and the girl continued to look at me through the glass panel for a while until her father walked past and she turned to follow him into the interior of the house. I watched her curiously and started to wonder if perhaps it wasn't the father getting the calls at this house.
As I returned to the car, unlocking it and opening the door to get in, the girl appeared on the other side, looking at me with her arms crossed over her chest.
"No way you work for the phone company," she said accusingly.
"Sure I do," I said.
"Since when does a phone guy drive a rental car and wear a cheap suit?" She asked.
I huffed, looking down and then back at her. "Yeah, well. Maybe we're both keeping secrets," I said to her, smiling.
"Why did you ask my Dad if he's hearing strange voices on the phone?" She asked.
"Why, did you hear something?" I countered, realising that I was on to something.
"No," she answered quickly.
"My mistake, I thought maybe you did," I said with a smile.
"Well, I didn't okay?" She said defensively and I smiled again, certain I was right this time.
"Okay, sorry to bother you," I said. The girl continued to look at me, appearing uncomfortable and I looked down at my keys before turning my puppy-dog look on, the one that Beth said won over the hearts of all women anywhere.
"Because you know... if you did...then I would have told you that I've been right where you're standing right now... Hearing things, even seeing things that can't be explained. Maybe I could have been able to help out a little bit." The girl looked thoughtfully at the ground, but didn't say anything further. "Anyway..." I started to get into the car, and she stepped forward.
"Hey wait. Maybe..." she looked at me hesitantly, biting her lip. "Maybe I've been talking on the phone... with...with my Mom."
"Well that's not so strange," I said to her.
"She's dead. Like three years now dead," she said and I frowned.
"How often does she call you?" I asked, my heart beating a little faster with the discovery.
"A few times. It started a week ago. I thought I was like, crazy or something," she said to me with a smile.
"Well... I can tell you one thing for sure, and you're going to have to go with me on this, okay? You're not crazy," I said. She smiled and nodded at me, looking relieved.
Downtown
Beth's POV
Dean phoned Sam as we walked back from the latest house we'd checked out, I was still shaking my head at what we'd heard.
"Dude, stiffs have been calling people all over town," Dean said into the phone when Sam answered. "We just talked to an 84 year old grandmother who's having phone sex with her husband, who died in Korea!" I shuddered, that hadn't been the worst part, she'd then proceeded to try and give Dean and me some pointers, seeing right through the co-worker facades. Dean had been less than impressed.
"It redefined my understanding of the word necrophilia," Dean said and a woman gasped as she overheard that part of the conversation, tossing him a dirty look. Dean paused, looking back at her and then shrugging at me as he started walked again.
"Beats me, but we'd better find out soon. This place is turning into spook central," Dean said, finishing up the phone call with Sam as we reached the car. He hung up and started to open the door when his phone rang again.
"Yeah, what?" Dean said.
He paused, and looked at me with a frown. "Sam?" He asked, and I leaned on the roof of the car, watching him. Suddenly he froze, a shocked look coming on his face.
"What is it?" I asked, stepping back and starting to round the car to him.
"Dad?" Dean said into the phone.
"What?" I asked, reaching his side, he looked at me in surprise, and then closed the phone.
"Wait, what are you doing?" I asked urgently, reaching for his phone. Dean took in a deep breath, grabbing me into a hug and holding me close, his chin resting on the top of my head. "Was that Dad?"I questioned from where I was pressed against his body.
"Yeah... yeah I think it was... the call dropped out," he said, squeezing me tight. I pulled back far enough to look into his eyes, biting my lip at this new turn of events.
"What the hell is going on here?" I asked softly, Dean just shook his head, having no answer.
Motel Room
Beth's POV
I sat anxiously on one the beds holding Dean's phone like it was a lifeline that might somehow save us from drowning while he paced the open spaces of the room. Sam was sitting on the other bed, still coming to grips with what we'd just told him.
"Dad? You really think it was Dad?" He asked sceptically.
"I don't know, maybe," Dean said, starting to look doubtful.
"Well what did he sound like?"
"Like Oprah!" Dean said, waving his hand in the air and rolling his eyes. "Like Dad, he sounded like Dad, what do you think?"
"What did he say?" Sam asked, following the same line of questioning that I had done in the car back to the motel room.
"My name," Dean answered.
"That's it?"
"The call dropped out," I said softly, staring at the phone again.
Sam took in a deep breath and let it out again slowly, shaking his head. He wasn't convinced.
"Why would he even call in the first place, Dean?"
"I don't know, man. Why are ghosts calling anybody in this town?" Dean asked.
"Well other people are hearing from their loved ones, why can't we?" I asked, frowning. "It's at least a possibility, right?"
Dean stopped and looked at me, nodding. Sam shrugged. "Yeah, I guess."
"Okay, so what if..." Dean stopped moving and sat down on the bed next to me, looking at the phone in my hands. "What if it really is Dad? What happens if he calls back?" Dean asked.
"What do you mean?" Sam asked, looking at him confused.
"What do I say?" Dean asked.
"Hello?" Sam suggested with a smirk.
"Hello?" Dean questioned, stopping to look at Sam, I snickered and shrugged as he turned to me.
"That's what you come back with. Hello?" He said, shaking his head. He stood up and started to walk toward the door, grabbing his jacket.
"Uhhh..." Sam muttered, looking at me in confusion. I shrugged and watched Dean, who turned back to us.
"Hello!" He said, then turned and walked out the door.
Sam looked at me, shaking his head. "What's up with him?"
"I dunno," I said softly, staring after Dean.
Local Bar
Dean's POV
I'd been gone about an hour when Beth finally found me. She came in, rugged up in a jacket and sighed visibly with relief when she saw me sitting at the bar. I had a moment to feel guilty, just walking out like that and not even taking my phone, but I needed to get away.
I looked down at the whiskey double I was nursing and took another swallow as she reached my side, shrugging out of her jacket and hanging it on the stool next to mine, sliding my phone across the bar to me.
"Hey," Beth said softly, running her hand up my back to rest lightly at the base of my neck, gently stroking the skin there.
"Hey," I said, looking at her with a half-smile.
"You okay?"
I shook my head, looking down at the drink again. The bartender came up and looked at us questioningly.
"Get you something?" He asked Beth, she nodded at him with a smile.
"I'll have what he's having."
"Beth..." I started to explain why I'd walked out but she shushed me with a kiss, softly stroking my cheek with her other hand.
"I'm sorry," she said before I could speak again.
"What for?"
"I've been really selfish, I haven't really been thinking about where you're at with things, what this is doing to you," she said her eyes looking at me with worry. "You spend all this effort holding it together for Sam and me..."
I shook my head. I didn't want her blaming herself or feeling guilty for how I was feeling. "You're allowed to be upset Beth, I wouldn't expect anything else from you," I said.
"But so are you!" Beth said, smiling at the bartender as he brought over her drink. She took a sip and grimaced as the whiskey washed down her throat.
"Dean I'm really worried about you... you don't talk about what's going to happen, you pretend like we have all the time in the world to be gallivanting around doing these jobs..." she stopped, her breath catching in her throat.
"Hey... come on," I said, turning around and pulling her into my arms, kissing her forehead.
"I just... Dean... aren't you scared?" She said, her words almost muffled as she buried her face into my neck. "I'm terrified! This is Hell we're talking about, and if what is going to happen down there, to you, is anything like my dreams..." She stopped talking and I felt her tense up, fighting off a round of tears. I closed my eyes, holding her tight, my heart starting to beat a little faster just thinking about it.
I'd seen those dreams, one night when I took African dream root and slipped into her dream world without her knowledge. I'd followed her through a happy dream and watched as I'd fallen into Hell. When she'd finally found me in Hell I had been turned into a demon, and I attacked her.
I sighed, I couldn't tell her I knew exactly what she was talking about, and that my own dreams were worse than that. With a deep breath, she sniffed back her tears, pulling back, rubbing at her eyes and looking around a little embarrassed.
"Hey," I said, brushing a few tears from her eyes. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I'm putting you through this."
"Don't be sorry, just talk to me!" She said, looking at me with a frown. "Please Dean."
I sighed again, nodding slightly. "Okay, I will, I promise... just not... not now okay?" I said, Beth nodded with a little frown. I poked my tongue out at her and she half-smiled at me, sighing at the same time.
"So... why did you walk out?" She asked, frowning again and taking a sip of her drink.
"I dunno," I said with a shrug. "It's just... it's Dad you know? And Sam just expects me to be like 'Hey Dad, how are you? Is it sunny where you are?'" Beth snickered, and shook her head at me.
"I don't think that's what he meant Dean," she said softly. I rolled my eyes and smiled.
"Yeah I know, it just hit me in the wrong way," I said, taking another drink. "But what do you think? What if it really is Dad?"
Beth hesitated, and then took another drink. "Well... it has to be happening for a reason. You think maybe if it is him, he has information we can use... on Hell?" She asked. I smiled, there she was, my little plotter, always trying to come up with some kind of an angle to get us out of our latest predicament.
"What?" She asked, seeing the smile.
"You," I said with another smile. "You're so cute, and you don't give up, ever, and I love that about you."
She smiled, sidling up to me, slipping between my legs as I balanced on the bar stool and wrapping her arms around my waist.
"Is that all you love about me?" She asked, kissing along my jaw.
"Uhhh... I can think of a couple of other things," I said with a grin, my hands finding their way down to her lower back and stroking the bare skin under her top. "You think we should get our own room when we get back, and I can show you some of those things?" Beth giggled and nodded, turning to look at me with seductive eyes.
"What's Sam doing anyway?" I asked, thinking about the motel room.
"Research."
"Well, let's give him some time to actually find something... we can get in some dart practice, and maybe a little pool," I said with a grin. Beth laughed and nodded her agreement.
"First though..." I said, smiling at her again and sliding my hand under her chin to lift her mouth to mine. "I haven't done this to you all day..." I said, brushing my lips across hers and listening to the little gasp of pleasure she always made when I kissed her.
Motel Room
Beth's POV
Sam was on the couch with the laptop in front of him when we got back from the bar.
"Find anything?" Dean asked.
"After three hours I have found no reason why anything supernatural would be going on here," Sam announced.
Dean stood looking down at him, a quirky smile on his face. "Well, you know, you'd think a Stanford education and a high school hook up rate of zero point zero would product better results than that," he said with a smirk.
Sam chuckled, looking up at him. "Hilarious," he replied.
"Sammy, you're just looking in the wrong places, pal," Dean said with an infuriatingly amused grin.
"And what are the right places, Dean?" Sam asked, rolling his eyes.
Dean reached into his jacket and produced a pamphlet we'd just found. "Motel pamphlet rack," he announced, dropping the paper on the coffee table and turning around to where I was quietly making us a couple of coffees.
"Milan, Ohio. Birthplace of Thomas Edison," Dean said, taking the coffee I offered him and smiling his thanks, taking a sip.
Sam picked up the pamphlet and flicked through it. "Yeah, right. So what?"
"Keep reading," I said with a smile, taking a sip of my own coffee and almost groaning with delight, it tasted soooo good after all that whiskey.
Sam kept looking over the pamphlet with a sigh, and then when he reached the same section of information we had just ten minutes ago, he looked up in surprise.
"You're kidding?" He asked.
Dean simply raised his eyebrows back at him with a grin. "If we leave now, we can make the last tour," he said. I groaned, thinking about much more fun things we could be doing. Dean heard the groan and chuckled at me.
"Oh, and by the way, we got another room for tonight, I'm sure you'll understand," he said, heading for the door and with a wave of his hand. "Let's go!"
Sam looked at me and shook his head. "I dunno how you put up with him sometimes," he muttered, standing up and pulling on his jacket. I grinned and put the coffee cup I was holding back in the sink, still half full.
"It's the ass, Sammy... just when I think I'm gonna let him walk out that door forever... I look down," I said with a wink, getting a laugh out of Dean as he walked out the door, wriggling his behind at me as he did so.
Milan Museum
Beth's POV
An irritatingly pleasant and friendly young girl was leading the tour, waving her arms around and guiding us through the museum. I fought back my desire to cap her one with my gun, telling myself it was just the whiskey, and the sexual frustration that was building up in me.
"And we're walking..." She said for the tenth time during the tour. Dean squeezed my hand and grinned, rolling his eyes. "And, here we have one of the museum's most unique and treasured possessions. Thomas Edison's spirit phone. Did you know that Mr Edison, as well as being one of America's most beloved inventors, was also a devout occultist? Ooh!" She used quote-y fingers, waving them in the air when she said occultist and Dean turned to me, rolling his eyes again.
"What's what the quote-y fingers?" He whispered to me and I shrugged.
"He spent years working on this, his final invention, which he was convinced could be used to communicate with the dead. Pretty spooky, huh?" She said with more quote-y fingers whenever she accentuated a word, to the murmurs of the half dozen other people in the tour.
She checked her watch and then twirled her fingers in the air again, starting to lead us into the next room. "And we're walking. We are walking. We're walking. And we're not touching that. And we're walking. And stop." She said, her voice fading as we dropped back and stayed behind.
Sam pulled the EMF reader out of his jacket pocket and waved it over the phone which looked basically like an old gramophone.
"Anything?" Dean asked anxiously, staring at the phone.
Sam shook his head. "Nothing."
"What do you think?" Dean asked, looking over at me.
"Honestly? It looks like an old pile of junk to me," I said, frowning at the so-called phone.
"It's not even plugged in," Dean said, looking behind it.
"Maybe it didn't work like that," Sam suggested, looking behind him at the tour group and making sure we weren't drawing attention.
"Okay. Maybe it's like a radio tower, broadcasting the dead all over town," Dean suggested.
"Could be," Sam agreed with a nod.
"You know, this caller ID is 100 years old, right? Right around the time this thing was built," I said.
"Yeah, but why would it all of a sudden start working now?" Sam asked.
"I don't know. But as long as the mouldy are calling the freshers around here, it's the best reason we've got," Dean said.
"Yeah, maybe," Sam said softly.
Dean looked at me, his eyes a little excited as well as dubious at the same time. "So maybe it really is Dad," he said and I nodded. My heart skipped a little bit at the thought, the idea that maybe he could help us like he always had. John would know, he always had a plan. Now we just had to wait and see what he had to say.
Motel Room
Dean's POV
Beth was sleeping while I sat at the table, looking over at her tangled up in the sheets, a little smile on her face as she cuddled up to a pillow and murmured in her sleep happily. Suddenly my phone started to ring, showing the SHA33 caller ID and I grabbed it quickly before it woke Beth, walking into the bathroom.
"Dad?" I whispered into the phone.
"Dean," his voice came through strong and clear.
"Is it really you?"
"It's me," he answered.
"How can I be sure?"
"You can't," he answered, and I sighed with frustration. "Dean, how could you do it?" He asked me and I frowned.
"Do what?"
"Sell your soul," he answered.
"I was looking after Beth and Sam, like you told me to," I said, feeling the fear of disappointing him come up in my chest.
"I never wanted this. Never. You're my boy, I love you. I can't watch you go to Hell, Dean," he said.
"I'm sorry. I don't know how to stop it," I said.
"Because if you break the deal Sam dies, and Beth goes to Hell, right?" He asked.
"What?" I asked, how did he know that?
"Well I know a way out. For all of you," he said.
"How?" I asked, feeling my heart start beating hard in my chest, maybe Beth had been right, maybe Dad would have a way to get us out of this deal.
"The demon who holds your contract. He's here. Now," he said.
Motel Room
Beth's POV
I'd woken up to Dean on the laptop, which he'd obviously gone to get out of Sam's room while we were both sleeping. He was typing furiously at the keys and looked up as I sat up in bed, frowning at him.
"Have you even slept?" I asked, looking at the clock radio on the bedside table, it was 5am.
"Huh? Oh yeah, a little," he said, shaking his head. I could tell it hadn't been much just by the look in his eyes.
"What's going on? Why are you on the computer?" I asked with a groan. "Come back to bed."
Dean groaned and looked over at me with a grin. "Later," he said and I raised my eyebrow. "Dad called."
"What?" I asked, crawling out of bed and pulling on a bathrobe from the chair nearby. "What did he say?"
"He said the demon is here, now, the one that holds my contract," he answered.
"How would he know that?" I asked.
"I dunno, how do spirits know anything? They just know!"
Several hours later I had a little more information out of him, including an exorcism that was supposed to kill the demon. I was only now finishing up a phone call with Bobby as I walked back from the diner across the street, having grabbed us some breakfast. I hung up and went inside, Dean now had a stack of printing from the computer next to him and was still staring at the screen, completely obsessed. I put a large coffee in front of him and broke off a piece of croissant with cheese and ham, holding it out for him.
"Eat," I ordered him, and he looked up at me, his eyes tired and worn out. He opened his mouth and I fed the piece to him like a baby bird and smiled, kissing him on the lips.
There was a knock at the door.
"Come in!" I called out, noticing that for once in his life Sam actually waited before entering, he really wasn't keen to have a repeat of when he'd walked in on us the last time, it made me chuckle.
"What's up?" Dean asked, still typing away on the computer.
"That girl, Lanie, her Mom's ghost spooked her out pretty bad last night," Sam answered, frowning at Dean who didn't even look up from what he was doing.
"That sucks," he answered.
"Yeah, it does. What are you doing?" Sam asked, looking questioningly at me. I shrugged and put the rest of the food on the table nearby, handing him a croissant of his own.
"I think Dad's right. I think the demon is here. Check it out," he said, and Sam looked a little surprised at the announcement, but took it in his stride as Dean handed him some papers and then got up to walk over to his bag.
"What is this, weather reports?" Sam asked, taking a look at the papers he was holding.
"Omens. Demonic omens. Electrical storms everywhere we've been for the past two weeks, maybe even longer, like when we were in Saint Sault Marie," he said, looking at me. I frowned, shaking my head.
"I don't remember any odd weather while we were there," I said, referring to the four days we'd spent touring around the twin cities on the Canadian border on what had been an impromptu honeymoon.
"Well we weren't really paying that close attention to the weather..." Dean said with a grin and I blushed, shaking my head.
"Ahhh... I don't remember any lightning storms in the last few weeks either," Sam said.
"Well, I don't remember you studying meteorology as a kid either. But I'm telling you, that bastard's been tailing me... wearing some poor dude's meatsuit," Dean said.
I frowned, this didn't make a lot of sense to me.
"And it's following you because...?" Sam asked, looking at me with the same amount of confusion I was feeling.
"I guess I'm big game, you know. My ass is too sweet to let outta sight," Dean said.
"Okay. Sure." Sam said, a little dubiously.
Dean walked over and snatched the papers back from his brother, scowling. "Don't get too excited Sammy. Might pull something," he snapped.
"Hey, Dean," I said, walking over and pulling him aside a little, giving Sam a look to tell him I'd handle this. "Listen, you know we're on your side, but there's just a few things that aren't making a lot of sense..." Dean looked at me, hurt coming into his eyes.
"Hey, don't look at me like that, you know I have your back."
"Yeah, we do. But we also need to think about what we're going to do if we do come across this demon, you know we don't have the Colt anymore," Sam said, interrupting even though I'd indicated I was going to handle it. Dean nodded keenly at Sam.
"Yeah, yeah I know. It's okay. Dad's thought of that, he gave me an exorcism that'll kill the demon," he said. Sam looked at him in surprise, and I shook my head, not sure about this exorcism, which I hadn't seen in any of the hunter journals I'd read so far, including my father's or Pastor Jim's.
"Dean, look, I wanna believe this, I really do..." I said and Dean looked down at me.
"Then believe it! If we get this sucker, it's Miller Time," he said.
"That's the thing, Dean. An exorcism that can kill a demon? I mean, not just send it back to Hell, but kill it?" I looked at him a little dubiously, knowing it was going to hurt him that I wasn't completely behind him on this.
"I've checked it out," Dean said, looking intently at me. "This is heavy duty Dark Ages. Fifteenth century."
"Yeah, I checked on it too Dean," I said quietly. "And so did Bobby." Dean frowned at me, clearly not having realised I'd been doing my own research.
"Okay, and?" He asked.
"And, it definitely is an exorcism, okay, there's just no evidence that it can kill a demon," I said uncomfortably, resisting the urge to squirm in front of him.
"No evidence it can't," Dean said stubbornly.
"Come on man..." Sam said, throwing his hands in the air.
"Hey, as far as I'm aware the only one of us who has actually been to Hell is Dad." Dean said, glaring at Sam. "And maybe he picked up a couple of tricks down there. Beth, you said it yourself he might have a solution to this whole nightmare. A solution: like which exorcisms work?" I really wanted to believe him, and a part of me did. I could feel myself giving in to the ease of just taking orders from John again, trusting him to do what was right for us all.
I bit my lip, looking at him. "Okay, maybe you're right, we'll wait for the call and we'll look into it, we'll go check out the guy," I said and Dean smiled at me, nodding.
"Okay, thank you," he said, hugging me quickly and kissing my forehead.
"Look, guys. Maybe it will work. I hope it does too, but we gotta be sure," Sam said.
"Why aren't we sure?" Dean asked, pulling away from me to look at Sam.
"Because I don't know what's going on around here Dean! I mean, some guy blows his brains out, a little girl is scared out of her wits..."
"Wow, man, a couple of civvies are freaked out by some ghosts. News flash Sam, people are supposed to be freaked out by ghosts!" Dean snapped, looking down in frustration as Sam sighed.
You could have cut the tension in the air with a knife it was so thick. I sighed, placing my hand on Dean's arm.
"Did Dad tell you where to find the demon?" Sam asked.
"I'm waiting on the call," he said angrily and I flinched at the tone in his voice.
Sam sighed again and frowned at me. "I told Lanie I'd stop by," he said, and I nodded.
"Oh, good, yeah," Dean said sarcastically at him. "No you go hang out with jail bait. Just, uh, watch out for Chris Hansen. Meanwhile, we'll be here getting ready to, you know, save my life," he added, looking at me.
Sam shook his head and kept walking toward the door during this tirade. Dean's face turned furious as he was ignored.
"You're unbelievable, you know that?" He yelled at Sam, who stopped with his hand on the door.
"Dean, stop it," I said, placing a hand on his chest.
"No, Beth, I won't. I mean for months we've been trying to break this demon deal. Now Dad's about to give us the freaking address and he can't accept it?" He looked over at Sam again. "The man is dead and you're still butting heads with the guy!" He yelled at Sam.
Sam turned slowly and looked at him, anger flashing in his eyes. "This is not what this is about," he said.
"So what is it?!" Dean shouted.
"The fact is we've got no hard proof here, Dean!" Sam shouted back. "After everything, you're both still just going on blind faith!"
"Yeah, well maybe! You know, maybe that's all we got, okay?" Dean said loudly, but his voice not as angry as it was before, I detected a slight ache in the tone, a resignation that had been growing.
Sam stared at us and then Dean looked down, shaking his head.
"Please. Guys. Just please don't go anywhere until I get back. Okay? Please." Sam said, looking from Dean to me. Dean remained silent, refusing to look at Sam. I nodded quietly, biting my lip, knowing that I probably wasn't going to keep that promise if John called and told us where the demon was. Sam shook his head and then left the room.
"Unbelievable," Dean muttered, moving to sit down heavily at the table, resting his phone in front of him. I moved behind him, rubbing at his shoulders and listening to the groan it got out of him.
"It'll be okay Beth, you'll see," he said as I continued to work at the knots in his neck, leaning down to kiss him on the head.
Greenfield House
Sam's POV
Lanie was looking at me with tear-filled eyes, explaining what had happened the night before.
"Have you told your father about any of this?" I asked with a concerned look.
"And bother him at work?" She asked with a smirk. "No. He wouldn't believe me anyway, he'd just chuck me into therapy." I nodded, she wasn't wrong in that, the parents rarely believed their children were experiencing what they said they were.
"So what did your mother say?" I asked, needing to get to the bottom of it.
"She wanted to see me," Lanie answered. "So at first I thought I was supposed to go to the cemetery."
"Did you?"
Lanie nodded. "Nothing happened. But then she started asking me to do other things."
"What sort of things?"
"Bad things," she replied softly, wrapping her arms around her body. I watched her as she closed up, not wanting to get into it, but I had to get to the bottom of this.
"Lanie, please. Tell me what happened, it's very important," I said.
She sighed and looked out the window again, shaking her head. "Mom told me to go to Dad's medicine cabinet."
"And?"
"She wanted me to take his sleeping pills, take all of his sleeping pills!"
"She wanted you to kill yourself?" I asked, frowning. How did that make any sense?
Lanie nodded and started crying. "Why would my Mom want me to do that?"
"I don't know," I answered with a frown.
"I mean, just so I could come to her?"
"What'd you say?" I asked, looking up sharply at the statement. I'd heard that before, it sounded a lot like a creature we'd come across in the past.
"She wanted me to come to her," Lanie answered.
"No, how'd she say it?" I asked.
"'Come to me.'" She said. "Like a million times."
I took in a sharp breath, looking at her sternly. "Lanie," I said. "That's not your mother, " I said. Definitely not her mother, this was something far worse.
Motel Room
Dean's POV
I don't know how long I'd been sitting at the table. Beth had done her best to cheer me up a little, and I appreciated it, but the more I sat the more I started to fret about the phone call. She was in the shower now and normally I'd be taking advantage of the alone time but my mind was completely on the demon hunt. We had to get this bastard.
My phone started to ring and I grabbed it, answering in one ring.
"Dad?"
"Yeah," he said.
"Where's the demon?" I asked urgently, hearing the water turn off in the bathroom. He rattled off an address to me which I wrote down and shoved in my pocket.
"Okay, we're going," I said into the phone.
"No," Dad said.
"What?"
"You have to go alone," he said to me, and I frowned.
"But Beth... Dad I'm not alone here," I said.
As I listened to him give me more orders I sighed, looking at the bathroom door that was cracked open slightly. There was no doubt in my mind, he was speaking to me just like Dad always did: as if no time had passed at all between the moment he'd sent us to New Orleans and he'd gone missing.
"Yeah, okay." I said, hanging up the phone and feeling sick to my stomach. Beth came out of the bathroom, seeing me standing in the middle of the room clasping the phone.
"You know you're going to hear that thing ring even if it's not attached to you at the hip," she said with a smile, moving toward the bed and rubbing at her hair with a towel.
"Huh? Oh, yeah..." I said, shaking my head.
"You okay?"
"Yeah, yeah I'm fine." I said, going over and rummaging through my bag, grabbing what I needed and shoving them in my pocket before I walked over and slid my hands around her waist, kissing the back of her neck.
Beth groaned and leaned back into me, craning her neck back to kiss me. "Really? Now?"
I nodded and turned her to face me, kissing her deeply and pushing her back on the bed, running a hand along her thigh, up under the towel she was wearing.
She melted under my touch and I fought back the guilt that was growing inside of me as I moved her arms above her head, holding her down.
"Mmm," Beth said with a moan, smiling at me. "You know this works better if you're not..." I slipped the cuff around her wrist and then snapped the other end on to the headboard of the bed. "... dressed." She finished, looking at the cuffs. "Okay, that's kinky, but I can go with it," she said, looking at me as I stood back and threw her an apologetic look.
"You know you're my world, right?" I asked.
"Dean...what are you doing?" She said, sitting up on the bed a little straighter and pulling at the cuff around her wrist.
"Dad said you had to stay here, it's not safe for you," I said, moving away before I changed my mind.
"What? No! No you can't just leave me here Dean, you know I can help!"
I closed my eyes and moved away, shaking my head. It was safer for her this way, this demon was strong, anything could happen. I had to protect her.
"Dean!"
Blocking her protests out of my head, I walked quickly for the door, grabbing the car keys off the table and not looking back, because I knew if I did she'd be giving me those doe eyes and I'd cave. And Dad had given me an order.
Greenfield House
Sam's POV
My head was spinning as I walked out of the bedroom toward the stairs, Lanie following. I had to call Dean and Beth, tell them what was going on. But first I had to make sure Lanie was safe.
"Listen to me. Don't answer the phone. Don't use the computer. Don't do anything unless I say to, all right?" I said as I started to descend the staircase. Lanie had frozen in a doorway, and was staring into the room.
"Lanie," I said, realising she wasn't following me.
"Where's Simon?" She asked, looking up at me urgently.
I looked around, frowning. "Is he supposed to be in his room?" I asked. We'd left him there playing, but kids did things like explore, maybe he was just in the living room or something. I knew as soon as I thought it that it was just wishful thinking.
Lanie shook her head and we both started to run down the stairs.
"Simon!"
"Simon!" I called out, running out the door and down the footpath toward the road as Lanie searched the house.
The sound of horns blaring caught my attention down the street and I looked up in time to see Simon narrowly miss getting hit by a car. I ran as fast as I could, almost getting hit by cars myself. Simon stepped out on to a busy street, and I saw a truck barrelling down on him. They must not have seen him because they didn't even slow down. Suddenly the horn blared and Simon froze, looking at the truck. I reached him just in time, grabbing him and diving for the side of the road.
Surburban House
Dean's POV
I pulled up at the address that Dad had given me, my heart racing a mile a minute. This was it, this was the moment where I managed to get out of this damn deal and stop myself going to Hell.
With a quick thought about Beth still cuffed to the bed, I pushed it to the back of my mind and got out of the car, opening the trunk and grabbing my weapons bag and a large bottle of water.
The house was empty when I entered, and I moved down the hallway, listening for any clue that someone was home. A floorboard creaked overhead on the second floor and I paused, looking up the staircase.
"Hello?"
There was no answer. I chose the living room to prepare, dropping a rosary into the bottle of water and reciting the words necessary to turn it to holy water. Then I pulled a paint can out of the bag, and sprayed a devil's trap on the floor, covering it over with a rug when I was done.
I looked at my phone, debating calling Sam for assistance, but it wouldn't be any better than bringing Beth along, he'd be in danger too, and my job was to protect them both.
Instead I sat down in the dark, waiting for the demon to show up, when he did, I'd be ready.
Rental Car
Sam's POV
I phoned Dean as soon as I got back on the road, seeing to it that Lanie and Simon were safely tucked away in their house away from any phones or computers.
"Dean, it's not Dad," I said as soon as he answered.
"Then what is it?" Dean asked snappily.
"A crocotta."
"Is that a sandwich?" Dean questioned and I rolled my eyes.
"Some kind of scavenger. Mimics loved ones, whispers 'Come to me', then lures you into the dark and swallows your soul," I said to him.
"A crocotta, right... damn that makes sense," Dean said.
"Dean, look, I'm sorry man, I know..."
"Hey, don't these things live in filth?" Dean said, interrupting me.
"Yeah."
"Sam, the flies at the phone company," he pointed out. I almost hit my forehead, it had been staring us in the face. Of course!
"Okay, I'll head there now," I said to him.
"Meet you there," Dean said, hanging up.
I pointed the car toward the phone company and floored it. It was late, but still in business hours so maybe I'd find the crocotta still lurking in his basement office.
Motel Room
Beth's POV
I tugged at the cuff around my wrist and sighed. Damn him! He'd been gone twenty minutes or longer and I was no closer to coming up with a solution to my predicament.
My phone was tucked in my jeans across the room. I sighed and looked at it, so close yet so far away. I had to get out of these cuffs. Looking around, I tried to find something I could use to pick the lock.
I was on Dean's side of the bed, and I sighed thinking about how I'd left a few bobby pins on the night stand, the one that I wasn't sitting next to. I looked over at them, scooting as far as I could on the bed, stretching out with my hand. They were just out of reach and the head board was designed in a way that I couldn't just slide the cuffs along its length.
Cursing, I fell back against the headboard, groaning. I was going to kill Dean when I caught up with him. Picking up a pillow I grimaced, looking at the bobby pins on the night stand. This could either be a really good idea, or a really bad one: but I couldn't see that I had much choice.
I carefully reached out with the pillow and moved it over the top of the bobby pins, holding my breath as I brought the pillow down and then pulled it toward me, flipping the pins on to the bed. One of the pins landed close enough and I grabbed it, sighing with relief. I pulled the plastic tip off the end and bent the pin to the right angle, sticking it into the cuffs and twisting it until the lock tumbled, the cuff coming free. I climbed to my feet quickly, pulling on some clean underwear, my jeans and a top. Flipping open my phone, I called Dean – it went to voicemail, he'd turned his phone off.
"Dean! Call me back, this isn't funny," I said, hanging up. I phoned Sam while I looked around the room for a clue as to where Dean had gone. Sam's phone went to voicemail too, what the Hell was going on?
My eyes lighted upon a pad and pen on the table, casually discarded. Hurrying over to my pack, I took out a pencil and turned back to the table, colouring over the surface lightly. An address in Dean's handwriting came up on the surface and I smiled.
"Gotcha."
Looking out the window at the parking lot I surveyed the damage. There were plenty of choices of cars and a couple of motorcycles. Perfect. Dean was getting help whether he wanted it or not.
Phone Company
Sam's POV
The phone company was quiet when I arrived, most of the people having gone home for the day. I crept along a back alleyway and peeked in the basement window. Stewie was sitting at his console. Something banged behind me and I looked up, not seeing anything of any concern. When I looked back Stewie was leaving the room, so I ran back up the alley toward the staff car park.
A van was the perfect hiding place for me as Stewie left the building. I phoned Dean again, getting his voicemail.
"This is Herman Munster. Leave a message."
"Dean, I'm in the parking lot. He's here. Hurry!" I said quietly and hanging up.
Stewie reached his car and unlocked it as I ran at him, pushing him against the door and pressing a metal spike to the back of his neck.
"What the Hell!" Stewie said in surprise.
"I know what you are," I said to him.
"Wait, mister."
"And I know how to kill you," I pointed out to him, pushing the spike a little harder against him.
"Please. Okay, wait, wait. If we're overcharging you for the call waiting or something I … I can fix that. I am your friend!" Stewie snivelled at me and I paused, confused. That didn't sound like the pleas of a monster about to die.
"Please. Please just don't kill me!" Stewie said.
Suddenly there was a searing pain to the back of my head and everything went black.
When I came to, I was tied to a chair and Stewie was in front of me in the same predicament.
"I'm sorry, Clark. I'm sorry for whatever I did to you. I'm sorry... please..." Stewie snivelled at the manager who had shown us down to the office the first time we'd visited.
Clark was walking around and I looked up. "Wait! Don't do it!" I said to him.
"You're awake," Clark said with a smile, leaning over Stewie and placing the tip of a knife against his thigh.
"You're not a killer Clark, no! There's a good man inside of you, I know it," Stewie said,.
"What do you think, Sammy, am I a good man?" Clark said, looking up at me.
"Just let him go."
"I would. I really would. If only I'd had more than a salad for lunch," he stood back, waving the knife around in the air. "You see, I'm starving!"
I watched in horror as he lifted the knife high above his head behind Stewie and then rammed it into the technician's chest.
"No!"
Clark moved in front of Stewie, crouching slightly as he held the dying technician by the shoulders. I could just see as his jaw unhinged and widened, and he placed his mouth close to Stewie's. A faint light started to pour out of Stewie's mouth and Clark sucked on it. I shuddered and looked away, working at the bonds holding me in place.
Finished, Clark stood up, wiping at his mouth.
"My last call with Dean. That was you. You led me here," I stated.
"Some calls I make, some calls I take, but you have to admit, I had you fooled for a while. All that Edison phone crap," he said with a laugh. He moved to the telephone exchange cabinet and placed his hands against the glass, leaning back with a pleased smile on his face.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm killing your brother. Or maybe I'm killing your sister. Maybe both. We'll just have to see how it goes," he said.
When he was finished, he turned and pulled the knife out of Stewie's chest.
"You know, mimicking Dean's one thing. But my Dad. That's a Hell of a trick," I said, stalling for time as I pulled at the ropes holding me.
"Well once I made you three as hunters, it was easy. I found Dean's number, then your number, your sister's... then you father's numbers. Then emails, voicemails, everything. You see, people think that stuff just gets erased, but it doesn't. You'd be surprised how much of yourself is just floating out there, waiting to be plucked."
"Dean and Beth aren't going to fall for this. They're not going to kill another person."
"Then they die instead," Clark said with a shrug.
Suburban House
Dean's POV
Headlights from a car shone across the window to the room I was waiting in. I stood up, moving silently to the hallway as a door slammed. I removed the lid from the bottle of holy water I was holding and waited for the demon to come through the door wearing his meatsuit.
Initially I thought he was coming in the front door, but then he moved around the back. I frowned, not understanding why he might be doing that, but moving down the hallway toward the back door just the same. The door slammed open suddenly and a man appeared, raising a rifle and firing. I leaped out of the way, the surprise causing me to drop the bottle of holy water. There was the sound of the man reloading the rifle, and I waited for the sound of the shell being removed before taking my action, running toward the demon and slamming him into the wall.
I punched him a few times and then kneed him in the stomach. As he dropped to the floor I moved for the rifle, but the demon recovered, following me and grabbing my arm, slamming me on to a table. He got in a few hits and then I headbutted him. The demon fell backwards to the ground and I kicked him in the stomach, willing him to stay down, I had to get him into the devil's trap. I kicked him a few more times, each time harder than the other. I wasn't going to let this son of a bitch get away.
Motel Room
Beth's POV
I'd decided to take the motorcycle, strapping my knapsack to my back. I walked casually toward the two bikes parked five doors down and looked around to make sure no one was watching.
My phone started to ring and I pulled it out of my jeans, looking at the caller ID. SHA33.
"Dad?" I asked, picking up the phone.
"Beth..." I listened intently, it sure sounded like him.
"Dad... I'm going after Dean."
"No, no you need to stay where you are, she's coming for you, you have to get ready," he said.
"What?"
All of a sudden a car came out of nowhere, barrelling toward me and I swore, jumping out of the way as it careened into the bikes, coming to a screeching halt. A crazy-eyed red head jumped out of the car, coming at me with a baseball bat. I gasped, scrambling to my feet and looking at the woman.
"What are you nuts?!" I called out to the woman.
"I am going to mess you up bitch!"
I stared at her, not comprehending, falling into a defensive stance.
"Look, I don't want any trouble," I said, trying to reason with her.
She laughed and shook her head. "Little late for that isn't it? You killed him! You stole him, and then he died chasing after you. If he hadn't been on that plane, he would be alive today!"
"What are you talking about?"
The woman didn't reply, instead jumping at me and swinging the bat. I ducked, skipping behind her and giving her a shove into a nearby car.
"You don't want to do this," I said, sighing.
"Shut up bitch!"
She swung again, I ducked and blocked it with my arms, gasping with pain as the blow glanced off my arm. I got a grip on the bat, disarming her and kicking her in the stomach.
"I don't know who the hell you are, or what you've been told, but you have the wrong girl," I said to her.
With an angry growl, she threw herself at me, kicking and taking a bite out of my arm. I hissed, pushing her off me and reaching for my knapsack. I fumbled into the main compartment, my hand brushing past the butt of my pistol, closing around the flask of holy water in there, I pulled the flask out, holding the bag where I could get at the gun if I needed to.
"Okay, I'm gonna say this again, you need to back the hell off lady," I said, grimacing at the blood running down my arm. Nasty.
She ran at me one more time and I threw the contents of a flask of holy water at her, it did little to deflect her. By the time I realised that she wasn't a demon I'd pulled the gun, and pointed it at her chest. She froze.
"I will use this," I said to her. She started to cry, and backed away, I breathed a sigh of relief, having had no intention of using it on a civilian.
Phone Company Basement
Sam's POV
"Technology. Makes life so much easier," Clark said to me, walking around the basement and smiling. "Used to be I'd hide in the woods for days, weeks, whispering to people, trying to draw them out into the night. But they had community, they all looked out for each other, I'd be lucky to eat one or two souls a year," he rolled his eyes. "Now when I'm hungry, I simply make a phone call. You're all so connected. But you've never been so alone."
Clark unhinged his mouth and moved toward me with the knife in his hand. I had been fighting at my bonds for a while, trying to disguise it with the discussion. It had worked. My wrists were raw and sore, but I got free of them; I threw myself at Clark and we fell to the ground, the knife skidding across the floor. We both struggled, trying to reach the knife.
I felt him grab my jacket and he swung me around into a metal grate, I hit hard with a crunch. When I turned, Clark had picked up the knife and was running toward me. When he reached me, I blocked his downward swing, punching him and swinging him against a wall, he fought back, struggling with me blow for blow. I got a grip on the knife, pulling it away and I hit the creature in the face, forcing him backwards into a wall against a metal spike that was sticking out of the wall. It jammed through the creature's neck, killing him.
Suburban House
Dean's POV
The man somehow got back to his feet, this was a tough demon. He ran at me, and we both fell through a glass door, the shards of glass falling all around us. I spotted a handgun tucked into his waistband and reached for it, pulling out the cartridge and tossing it aside. The man struggled to his feet, covered in glass. I smirked, finally I'd gotten him just where I wanted him. I flicked back the rug at his feet, revealing the devil's trap.
Pulling the exorcism out of my pocket I moved away. I hated Latin, I wasn't very good at it, not like Beth or Sam, but I could manage.
The demon looked confused at the trap on the floor.
"What is this?"
"Your funeral," I answered, starting to read the ritual in my hands. The demon stepped toward me, moving out of the circle, I stared in confusion.
"You do this to my daughter too?" He asked me.
"How the hell did you get out?"
The man ignored my question. "Did you do this to my daughter too?!" He yelled at me.
I realised my mistake almost instantly, moving back and looking up at him.
"Wait, this is a mistake."
"You killed her!" He yelled at me. Something was definitely wrong here.
"No, wait," I said, reaching out to him. He didn't listen, leaping at me.
The man fell on top of me, punching me.
"She was nine years old!"
"Stop! I didn't! You gotta believe me!" I said, the force of his blows taking me by surprise.
Suddenly Beth was standing over us, a rifle in her hands. She smacked the man in the back of the head with the rifle butt and he fell to the ground, rolling to defend himself. I scrambled to my feet, standing next to Beth as he looked up at us.
"Why did you kill her?" He asked, sobbing and looking at me with anguished eyes.
"I'm sorry. I didn't kill your daughter," I said to him.
"Then what are you doing here?"
"I don't know!" I said, looking at him, confused, and meeting Beth's gaze. "I don't know," I said softly to her. She frowned and shook her head, looking at the man.
Motel Room
Beth's POV
Dean was looking at the bite mark on my arm, grimacing as I ran a cloth under the tap in the bathroom. He had a nasty gash to his eye, it reminded me a little of the time a werewolf had gotten a hold of him. He groaned as I placed a wet wash cloth to the cut, and I rolled my eyes at him.
"Baby," I said with a grin. He grinned at me and used the moment to place some gauze over the bite and tape it in place. I smiled ruefully at the whole moment, the pair of us patching each other up from our latest fights.
Sam entered the room, coming to the door of the bathroom. He had a large scrape along his face and was looking a little worse for wear.
"I see they improved your face," Dean said.
Sam snickered and raised an eyebrow at Dean. "Right back at ya." I smiled, shaking my head at both of them.
Dean pushed past me and Sam, walking into the room and sitting on the bed. I followed him and sat next to him.
"So, crocotta, huh?" I said to Sam.
"Yep."
"That would explain the flies," Dean said.
"Yeah it would," he said with a nod. "Hey, um, looking I'm sorry it wasn't Dad."
Dean scoffed and shook his head. "Nah, I gave you a hell of a time on this one," he said, looking at Sam.
"Ahh," Sam said, shrugging.
"You were right," Dean said.
"Forget about it," he replied, trying to blow it off.
"I can't. I wanted to believe so badly that there was a way outta this," Dean said, looking over at me. "I mean, I'm staring down the barrel at this thing. You know, Hell. For real, forever, and I just..."
I sucked in a breath, biting my bottom lip and feeling my lips twitch into a resigned look as Dean's eyes started to pool with tears. He looked at me, reaching out to brush a hand along my face, before looking back at Sam.
"I'm scared, guys. I'm really scared."
Sam's eyes teared up too, and he nodded. "I know." I nodded.
"I guess I was willing to believe anything. You know, the last act of a desperate man," Dean said.
"There's nothing wrong with having hope, Dean," Sam said.
"For you guys maybe. I need you guys to have hope. But for me...hope doesn't get me jack squat," Dean said.
I reached out to him, resting my hand on his shoulder.
"No," I said quietly, shaking my head.
"No, Beth. It's true. I need you guys to keep hoping, because without that... I'm not gonna make it. I can't expect Dad to show up with some miracle at the last minute. I can't expect anyone to, you know. I mean, the only person that can get me out of this thing is me, but I need you guys with me." Dean said.
I smiled and nodded at him, and he looked over at Sam.
"Yeah, okay," he said earnestly.
"Yeah okay?" Dean asked, smirking at him.
"What?"
"Deep revelation, having a real moment here, that's what you come back with. 'Yeah okay'?"
Sam raised his eyebrows at him and looked amused. "Uh, do you want a poem?" He asked.
"The moment's gone," Dean said with a look away.
Sam and I both smiled as Dean reached for the remote, flicking on the TV. I stood up, going to the bar fridge and pulling out three beers, I walked back, handing one each to the boys.
Dean smiled slightly at me as I passed him his beer and he nodded to the bed. I sank next to him and he cracked his beer at the same time that Sam did, handing it to me, taking the unopened beer in my hand and opening it for himself. He slipped an arm around my waist and I leaned against him, shoulder to shoulder while we all looked at the TV.
I glanced at Dean to find him looking over at me, and when he saw me peering at him he leaned over and kissed me, lingering and sweet. I smiled as we pulled back slightly. "Now that's a good moment," I said with a grin, he snickered and took another drink of his beer, nodding.
I leaned in to him, lowering my voice. "When Sam goes to his own room, you owe me for that little stunt you pulled," I whispered. Dean looked at me with a raised eyebrow, chuckling.
"Looking forward to it," he said with a smile. "Though you do realise I only did it to protect you."
I shook my head, frowning at him. "You promised me, we do this together, just like we've done everything else," I said quietly.
Dean looked appraisingly at me, taking in what I had said. "Please, Dean. Don't do that to me again," I added.
"Okay," he said, nodding and kissing me again. "Okay. I promise." Then his eyes turned to me with a joking look.
"Does this mean you're going to cuff me to the bed?" He asked, and I chuckled.
"That's for me to know, and you to find out," I said with a grin.
AUTHOR'S NOTES
Song for this chapter is: Fake It by Seether
It's getting closer! So sad :( I've had my angst/heart breaking playlist on repeat for the entire weekend and I'm feeling all sad and inspired to write at the same time.
This one was a little plain and not overly exciting, I did try to think of some flashback or something to go with it, but it's already 46 pages long in Word, so I think it'll do for now :) Anything you'd like to see in particular before he goes to Hell? I'll always do my best to accommodate if it's going to fit with the story. Going to have to be some smut coming up in the next few, after all, they're reaching the end of their timeline.
I had the VERY END – END (as in end of the series) come to me the other night. So now I totally know how it's going to end, and it won't really matter what the SPN writers do to finish the series, part of it will work regardless (or I'll make it work!) It's had me sniffling the whole weekend whenever I think about it because I think it's just the perfect ending for these guys.
I meant to say in the last episode that the car repair scene is dedicated to my sister Laura because she and I totally fixed her car with that simple little repair job! We were like "Woo hoo, who needs men – sisters are doing it for themselves!" Mind you, if Dean had shown up to do it for us, we would NOT have been complaining! Of course the main reason either of us is single right now is because we kind of have really high standards after dating losers who just can't make the grade and we're kind of refusing to settle now – which means we'll probably end up two old maids living together at age 90 all alone LOL
Thank you everyone who left a review for the last chapter! I'm so glad you enjoyed it :) I loved writing it so I'm happy that people liked it.
Please make my day and leave me a review :) xoxo