Now this ghost in my bedroom it gives me advice,
He promised one day that he'd teach me to fight.
Now when I think that I'm alone, he comes up my way with a devil's smile singing,
"This is now my home. You're my wish come true."
When you reach that golden cloud, I'll be there with you.
If there were monsters in the closet,
Well, I don't think I would be surprised.
I hear them call out from my window.
They try and trick me to come outside.
(I won't let you down)
We talked all day,
I can't tell if he's real or a made-up version of her again.
Never alone 'cause I've got you.
Get this out of my head.
YELLOW FEVER
I stared up at the vision before me, my hands running my over her stomach, grasping her breasts as I squeezed them gently, tweaking her nipples as I did. I was rewarded with a soft moan that made me twitch inside of her, turned on even harder by the little noises she made.
Groaning, I held her hips firmly between my hands as she rocked against me, rising up and off my shaft, then sinking down again with a rush that I met by thrusting up. God it felt so good, so right, and it had been so long. It had to be a dream, but I didn't care, if this was all I was going to get in the decades I had been down here, I'd take it. It felt just like Beth, it was perfect.
She smiled, leaning down to kiss me and I claimed her lips back eagerly, feeling her tongue circle mine with a soft sigh of contentment. The kiss turned urgent and she sucked along my lips as she quickened her pace, grinding against me. I threw my head back, closing my eyes as I felt my release building inside of me, I thrust into her and she met each movement with a moan, panting from how long we'd been making love.
"Oh yes," she groaned, and I heard her breath catch as she started to shudder on top of me, her body trembling beneath my hands as I gripped her, moaning and thrusting a little harder into her soft spot gaining another gasp of pleasure. "Yes... oh Dean... oh yes... yes... yes... good Lucifer yes!" She called out as she spasmed, flexing around me and clamping down as she groaned loudly.
Lucifer?
I opened my eyes and riding me was the blond haired beauty who had been tormenting me lately.
"Ashmedai?" I asked and she smiled, rocking against me still, her legs firmly gripping me. "No!"
"Oh please, you were enjoying it, you want it. Cum for me Dean," she said, her white eyes staring down at me as she leaned down to lick along my neck and up to my lips. "You feel so good, you make me feel good..."
"Bitch, get off me," I muttered at her, stilling beneath her insistent grinding and fighting off my orgasm.
"It's time to go back Dean." She said, her white eyes looking me over.
I realised suddenly that I wasn't on the rack, I was in a bed in my motel room, and I moved, taking advantage of it, pinning her to the bed and reaching for the knife.
"Dean!" Sam's voice brought me back to myself and I snapped to consciousness to find myself panting and pinning Beth to the bed while Sam had an arm around me, holding back the knife I was waving in the air.
"Are you back?" Beth asked and I gasped, dropping my head to her shoulder, nodding.
"Yeah..."
I released her and Sam stood back, taking the knife from me and peering down at the pair of us.
"How long has this been happening?" He asked and I buried my face in her shoulder while Beth wrapped her arms around me, running soothing fingers along my back.
"Since he got back," Beth said finally. "It's no big deal, it's getting better."
I wasn't convinced sometimes, but it had been a while since I'd had a nightmare quite like this one, the ones with Ashmedai always seemed to be worse than some of the others.
"No big deal?" Sam said, shaking his head and waving the knife around. "Why didn't you say something?" Sam asked and I rolled of Beth, sitting up on the side of the bed.
"Because you'll just go all Dr Phil on us," I muttered, shaking my head. "We're dealing with it." I looked at Beth, feeling my breath catch. "Right?"
"Yeah, we are," she said softly with a smile.
"You guys should get some help," Sam said, completely ignoring my Dr Phil comment.
"And say what, Sam?" I asked. "I'm having nightmares based on the time I spent in Hell and it's causing me to mistake my wife for demons?"
Sam opened his mouth and then closed it, shrugging.
"Like I said... we're dealing," I said, getting up and heading into the bathroom. I was up, might as well get in the first shower.
Rock Ridge, Colorado
Morgue
Beth's POV
The Coroner led us into the morgue and unzipped a body bag, revealing an ordinary looking middle aged man.
"Agent Tyler, Agent Perry, meet Frank O'Brien," he said to Dean and me, and I gazed curiously at the dead body.
"He died of a heart attack, right?" I asked, and the Coroner nodded.
"Three days ago."
"But O'Brien was forty-four years old, and according to this, a marathon runner," I pointed out and the man shrugged at me.
"Everybody drops dead sooner or later. It's why I got job security," he said.
"Yeah but Frank kicked it here. Now, just yesterday, two perfectly healthy men bit it in Maumee. All heart attacks, you don't think that's strange?" Dean asked, looking at him.
"Sounds like Maumee's problem to me. Why's the FBI give a damn, anyway?" He asked curiously.
"We just want to see the results of Frank's autopsy," Dean said and the Coroner looked confused.
"What autopsy?"
"The one you're gonna do," Dean said with a smile.
A short while later we were watching the Coroner cut into Frank's dead body. This part always made me a little queasy but I sucked it up and tried not to appear like a wussy girl.
"First dead body?" The Coroner asked us, and Dean shook his head.
"Far from it," he answered.
"Oh good. Because these suckers can get pretty ripe. Hey, hand me those rib cutters would you?"
I took a fortifying breath while Dean picked up the cutters and passed them to the guy. There was the sickening sound of bones crunching as he worked away at the ribcage. I exchanged a nauseas look with Dean who tried to distract himself by looking down at Frank's left hand.
"Hey is that from a wedding ring?" Dean asked, indicating a clear line on the finger. "I didn't think Frank was married."
"Ain't my department," replied the Coroner.
"Any idea how he got these?" I asked, holding up Frank's arm. It was full of deep scratches on his forearm that looked red and bloody.
"You know what? When you drop dead, you actually tend to drop," the Coroner replied. "Body probably got scraped up when it hit the ground... Huh!"
"What?" I asked, glancing at him curiously.
"I – I can't find any blockages in any of the major arteries," he said as he broke off the heart and held it up. Dean looked a little green around the gills as the Coroner inspected the organ. "Heart looks pretty damn healthy," he commented and held it out to Dean. "Hold that a second, would you?" Dean's eyes opened a little and he nodded, taking the heart in hand. I smirked at him; glad it was him and not me as the Coroner cut further into the body.
Suddenly I was hit in the face with a spray of blood and I flinched. "Oh, sorry," said the Coroner, and Dean snickered at my facial expression. "Spleen juice."
"Yeah, thanks," I said, fighting off the urge to vomit all over the body.
Police Station
Dean's POV
We'd dropped Beth off at the motel to shower and change, and I picked up my other FBI partner in the process. Now we were just waiting for the Sheriff to get around to seeing us. Things were definitely amiss with this heart exploding thing. The different creatures that could do such a thing were running around in my head – witches for a start, I hoped it wasn't witches; they were just painful to deal with. I looked over at the young deputy sitting at the desk watching us and shifted uncomfortably in the chair, we'd been here for half an hour, what was taking so long? I wanted to get back to Beth and make sure she was okay.
Suddenly the door to an interior office opened and the Sheriff exited. "Hell's bells, Linus, have you seen my..." he stopped mid-sentence, seeing us sitting there. "Who are they?" Sam and I stood up, adjusting our suits and the deputy responded to the question.
"Federal agents. I, uh..."
"And you kept them waiting?" The Sheriff asked to a startled expression from the kid.
"You, you said not to disturb..." he explained and the Sheriff waved him off impatiently.
"Come on back, fellas," he said. We walked past the Deputy, following him to his office when he stopped us short, pointing to our shoes.
"Shoes off," he said, and I looked down to see his own already sitting outside the door. I exchanged a shrug with Sam and kicked off my shoes – that was a little odd, but then, people were odd.
Inside the office, we stood at the desk on the opposite side to the Sheriff. "Al Britton," he said, reaching out to shake our hands. "Good to meet you."
"You too," Sam said with a smile as the Sheriff gestured us to be seated. "Thank you."
Before taking a seat himself, the Sheriff grabbed a large bottle of hand sanitiser, slathering it over his hands. I looked at Sam with a raised eyebrow – nothing weird about that.
"Okay," he said when he was done, taking a seat. "So, what can I do for uncle Sam?"
"Well, we're looking into the death of Frank O'Brien. We understand some of your men found his body," Sam said.
"They did. Me and Frank, we were friends. Hell, we were gamecocks," he said and I snickered. Gamecocks! That was funny! The Sheriff gave me a stern look and I stopped smiling, feeling suitably reprimanded.
"That's our softball team's name," he said and I nodded. "They're majestic animals." I shrugged and looked over at Sam before the Sheriff continued. "I knew Frank since High School. To be honest, I just this morning got up the strength to go see him. Frank was... he was a good man."
"Yeah," I said with a smile. "Big heart."
"Before he died, did you notice Frank acting strange?" Sam asked. "Maybe scared of something?"
"Oh hell, yeah. Real jumpy," he said with a nod.
"You know what scared him?" Sam asked.
"No. Wouldn't answer his phone. Finally, I sent some of my boys over to check on him, and well, you know the rest," he said. He started coughing into his hand and grabbed the hand sanitiser again, applying a thick layer to his hands.
"So, why do the Feds give a crap? You don't really think there's a case here?" He asked and I looked at Sam then shook my head.
"No, no. It's probably nothing. Just a heart attack," I replied with a smile.
Beth was waiting outside on the steps, all freshly showered and changed, when we walked out and she looked up curiously as we got closer.
"No way that was a heart attack," I said to Sam as soon as we were in hearing range of her.
"Definitely no way. Three victims, all with those same red scratches. All went from jittery to terrified to dead within forty-eight hours," Sam answered.
"Something scared them to death?" Beth asked and Sam nodded.
"All right, so what can do that?" He asked.
"What can't?" I asked. "Ghosts, vampires, chupacabras? It could be a hundred things," I commented.
"Yeah," Sam conceded. "So, we make a list and start crossing things off."
"All right," I said with a nod. "Who's the last person to see Frank O'Brien alive?"
"His neighbour, Mark Hutchins," Beth said, starting to walk toward the Impala. I grabbed her arm, staring at a group of delinquents on the pavement.
"Hang on, hang on," I said, pulling her back to me.
"What?" She asked, looking at me with a frown. I turned her back toward Sam, and leaned in to speak to them.
"I don't like the looks of those teenagers down there," I said. Sam and Beth looked back at the delinquents who were clearly looking for trouble, hanging around my car. "Let's walk this way," I said, guiding Beth across the road and around the long way so we could approach from the back where the teenagers weren't watching.
Sam hesitated watching us go and Beth frowned, shaking her head at me. I wasn't taking no for an answer though, it was my job to keep them safe, and that's what I was doing.
Mark Hutchins' house
Beth's POV
Mark Hutchins was a large man with a receding hairline, bald spot on the crown of his head and a medium sized snake wrapped around his neck. The whole house was a menagerie of reptiles, lizards, snakes and other assorted animals, I found it fascinating.
"Tyler, Perry and Kramer," said Mark to Dean with a smile. "Just like Aerosmith," and I internally groaned. Dean had to stop using these ridiculous aliases.
"Yeah, small world," I said with a smile and Mark looked at me, nodding. "So, the last time you saw Frank O'Brien?" I asked leaning forward a little from the couch I was seated on. Dean was fidgeting next to me, staring at a large lizard in a cage, and I tried to ignore him, it wasn't like Dean to weird out over reptiles.
"Monday," Mark said, looking out the window. "He was watching me from his window. I waved at him, but he just closed the curtains."
"Hmm. Did you speak to him recently?" Sam asked. "Did he seem different? Uh, scared?"
"Oh, totally. He was freaking out," Mark said with a nod. I looked over at Dean and he was starting to sweat, looking a little freaked out himself his eyes locked on a tank that housed a small alligator.
"Do you know, uh... do you know what scared him?" Dean asked, turning back to Mark.
"Well, yeah, witches," Mark replied and we all looked at him sharply.
"Witches?" Sam asked. "Like...?"
"Well, Wizard of Oz was on TV the other night, right? And he said that green bitch was totally out to get him," Mark replied, and I frowned. That seemed a little odd, not quite the witches we were thinking of.
"Anything else scare him?" I asked.
"Everything else scared him," Mark said, looking at me. "Al-Qaeda, ferrets, artificial sweetener. Those pez dispensers with their dead little eyes. Lots of stuff," he said with a shrug. Dean looked around again, his eyes watching all the animals in the aquariums and Sam leaned forward slightly.
"So, tell me. What was Frank like?" He asked.
"I mean, he's dead, you know? I – I don't want to hammer him, but... he got better." Mark said.
"He got better?" I asked.
"Well, in High School he was, he was a dick," Mark said.
"A dick?" Sam asked.
"Like a bully. I mean, he probably taped half the town's butt cheeks together..." he said as Dean snickered and I looked incredulously at him.
"Mine included," Mark added, looking at Dean with a frown.
"So he pissed a lot of people off. You think anyone would have wanted to get revenge?" Dean asked, covering for the snicker.
"Well, I don't... Frank had a heart attack, right?" he asked, looking confused.
"Just answer the question, sir," Sam said.
"No, I don't think so. Like I said, he got better. And after what happened to his wife..."
"His wife?" I asked, looking up. "So he was married?"
"She died about twenty years ago. Frank was really broken up about it," Mark said with a nod. I glanced over at Dean and he was staring at the snake around Mark's neck. Mark also noticed and chuckled.
"Don't be scared of Donny. He's a sweetheart," he said with a grin. "It's Marie you got to look out for," he said, nodding at the couch where an albino snake's head had crept up over the couch behind me, next to Dean's shoulder. "She smells fear," Mark added and Dean looked completely freaked out, his face going red and he stopped moving, holding his breath as the snake crawled down his lap.
County Clerk's Office
Beth's POV
Dean was waiting in the car for me while I did some background research in the county clerk's office. It was starting to get late and I was hungry, Dean was still acting jittery and I was starting to wonder if perhaps it was related to the nightmare from yesterday. It wouldn't have been the first time I'd woken up to that knife pressed at my throat, but I had woken up, that said something.
I skipped down the steps, pausing as I hit the pavement to look across the road where Dean was fidgeting in the car. I contemplated what must be going through his head as I crossed the road, rounding to the passenger side and climbing in.
"Hey," he said, scratching at his arm. "Any luck?"
"I'm not sure I'd call it luck," I answered, leaning in to give him a quick kiss. "Frank's wife Jessie was a manic depressive. She went off her meds back in '88 and vanished. They found her two weeks later, three towns over. Strung up in her motel room, suicide." He grimaced.
"Any chance Frank helped her along to the other side?"
"No, Frank was working the swing shift when she disappeared. Airtight alibi," I replied as Sam arrived, getting in the back seat.
Dean started the car and nodded at Sam, pulling out into the street.
"How was Frank's pad?" Dean asked Sam, looking in the mirror and then quickly turning his eyes back to the road.
"Clean. Searched it top to bottom. No EMF, no hex bags, no sulphur," Sam replied, sitting back in his seat.
"So probably no ghosts, no witches, no demons," I said and Dean sighed.
"Three down, and ninety-seven to go," he muttered.
"Yeah," I said, nodding and looking out the window. We were driving incredibly slow, even Sam didn't drive this slow. I glanced over at the speedometer and frowned.
"Dean," I said, looking at him. "Baby you're going 20."
"And?" He asked.
"That's the speed limit," Sam pointed out. Dean rarely did the speed limit, he rarely slowed down for anything unless he was looking for a place to park and make out.
"What? Safety's a crime now?" Dean asked. Now that did not sound like Dean at all, I glanced back at Sam who shrugged at me, indicating that he didn't know what was happening with Dean either. I sighed softly and sat back in my seat, looking forward to getting back to the motel room so I could take another nice hot shower. My eyes hit upon the motel and then I turned my head as we kept driving past it.
"Dean, where are you going?" I asked. "That was our motel."
"Beth, I'm not gonna make a left-hand turn into oncoming traffic. I'm not suicidal!" Dean declared, turning incredulous eyes toward me.
I looked around at Sam, throwing him a concerned look and he sat forward with a confused look of his own.
"Did I just say that? That was kind of weird," Dean added, and I nodded. There was a whirring sound that came from Sam and we all looked up quickly.
"Do you hear something?" I asked and Sam frowned, pulling the EMF reader out of his jacket and looking at it curiously. He moved it closer to Dean and it started to register, whirring and clicking.
Dean looked a little freaked, his eyes opening wider as he first glanced at the reader and then back at the road, gripping the steering wheel tightly. "Am I haunted?" He asked, looking back at me. "Am I haunted?!"
Motel
Next Morning
Dean's POV
The feel of the leather seat beneath my back was a comfort. I lay in the front of the Impala, turning up the tunes of Eye of the Tiger so that I could drown out the incessant worry in my mind. I was safe in this car, nothing could get me. The beat carried me to a good place and I started drumming in the air, letting it wash over me. It was better than the alternative, which meant going…inside.
Someone banged on the roof of the car and I felt my heart jump out of my chest, sitting up quickly to confront whoever it was. Beth smiled in at me and handed me a box of donuts, which she'd clearly bought for breakfast. I turned off the stereo, setting the donuts aside and got out of the car, showing her my arm: it was starting to worry me even more.
"Beth, look at this," I said, pulling up my shirt. Red marks were starting to appear in my forearm, and they itched like crazy, all I wanted to do was scratch at them. She looked sympathetically at them and then over at Sam as he walked up.
"I just talked to Bobby," he said, ignoring the marks on my arm.
"And?" I asked, picking up the donuts Beth had brought me and smelling them. They smelled off, definitely something wrong with them. I couldn't eat these, no matter how good an idea my stomach thought it was, they had to be a week old! I might get food poisoning and die a horrible death! I tossed them back in the car and noted that Beth raised her eyebrow at me, but said nothing.
"Um, well you're not gonna like it," Sam said.
"What?" Beth asked, looking at him with a frown.
"It's ghost sickness," Sam declared and I raised an eyebrow.
"Ghost sickness?" I asked sceptically. Whoever had heard of such a thing? He had to be making it up.
"Yeah," Sam said with a nod.
"God, no," I said mockingly at his serious face.
"Yeah."
"I don't even know what that is!" I pointed out, rolling my eyes. What the hell was going on here?
"Okay," Sam said with a sigh, looking from me to Beth. "Some cultures believe that certain spirits can infect the living with a disease, which is why they stopped displaying bodies in houses and started taking them off to funeral homes," he said.
"Okay, get to the good stuff," I said, not liking the sound of where this was going.
"Symptoms are, you get anxious," he said.
"Yeah," I said with a nod. I was definitely anxious.
"Then scared, then really scared, then your heart gives out. Sound familiar?" He asked.
"Yeah, but Sam, we haven't seen a ghost in weeks," Beth said, reaching a hand out to lay it comfortingly on my shoulder.
"Well I doubt he caught it from a ghost," Sam said. "Look, once a spirit infects that first person, ghost sickness can spread like any sickness through a cough, a handshake, whatever. It's like the flu. Now Frank O'Brien was the first to die, which means he was probably the first infected. Patient zero."
"Our very own outbreak monkey," I said grimly.
"Right. Get this Frank was in Maumee over the weekend. Softball tournament. Which is where he must have infected the other two victims."
"Were they Gamecocks?" I asked with a grin, man that was a stupid name for a softball team.
"Cornjerkers," Sam said and I snickered. That was even worse.
"So, ghost infected Frank. He passed it on to the other guys and Dean got it from his corpse?" Beth asked, frowning and contemplating the situation.
"Right," Sam said.
"So now what, I have forty-eight hours before I go insane and my heart stops?!" I asked, starting to feel it beating faster just at the idea.
"More like 24," Sam said.
"Super," I said, squeezing Beth's hand which had gone very still on my shoulder.
"Yeah."
"Well, why me? Why not Beth? I mean, she got hit with the spleen juice," I pointed out.
"Yeah, um, you see Bobby and I have a theory about that too. Turns out all three victims shared a certain, uh, personality type. Frank was a bully. The other two victims: one was a vice principal, the other was a bouncer."
"Okay…" I said, shrugging. I didn't get it.
"Basically they were all dicks," Sam pointed out.
"So you're saying I'm a dick?" I asked incredulously.
"No, no, no. It's not just that. All three victims used fear as a weapon, and now this disease is just returning the favour," Sam said.
"I don't scare people," I scoffed.
"Dean, all we do is scare people," Beth pointed out. "You know, we pretend we're FBI, CIC, Homeland Security… we bully our way into situations, we put the fear of God into people so they'll tell us the truth of what's going on…"
I looked at her and frowned. "Okay, well then, you're a dick too," I said to her and even saying it sounded ridiculous. She chuckled, leaning in to kiss me softly.
"Apparently, I'm not," she said with smile.
I sighed; no way would I call her a dick, she was right. I just didn't see it, hadn't I been through enough in Hell as payback for all the dick-like things I did?
"Whatever. How do we stop it?" I asked, looking up at Sam.
"We gank the ghost that started all this. We do that, the disease should clear up," he said.
"You thinking Frank's wife?" Beth asked.
"Who knows why she killed herself, you know?" Sam asked, and then he looked at me. "Hey what are you doing waiting out here, anyway?" He questioned, and I glanced up at the floor our room was on. A sick feeling washed over my stomach and I shuddered.
"Our room's on the fourth floor," I said. Sam and Beth looked up at the floor and then back at me. "It's… it's high," I said to Beth with a sigh and she shook her head with a patient sigh, leaning in to kiss my cheek.
"I'll see if I can move us down to the first," she said softly.
"Thanks," I said, smiling at her.
"Sure," she said, pulling away and walking toward the office. I watched her, a sense of panic starting to rise in my chest. She was so good to me, what would I do without her? I didn't even want to think about it. As soon as she got back, I wasn't going to let her out of my sight.
Sam reached in the window and picked up the box of donuts, taking one and eating it. He offered the box to me and I stared in horror. He was going to get sick! I shook my head; closing the box and tossing them back in on the seat. He might feel like dancing with salmonella, but I certainly wasn't going to risk it.
Motel Room
Beth's POV
I'd managed to get us a room on the first floor, much to Dean's relief and now we were reading up on ghost sickness with a few books that we'd gotten from the library in town. Dean was following me everywhere like a lost puppy, and while it was cute at first, when he'd wanted to come into the bathroom with me when I had to pee, I'd had to lay down the law.
Walking back into the room five minutes later, Dean was staring at the wall clock with a deadly look. He smiled at me and then went back to reading his book, blinking and coughing. I paused as he started to breathe a little faster and then without warning he got up and smashed the clock on the floor, causing me to jump.
"Dean!"
"Sorry…" he said. "It was driving me insane!" He crossed over, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me in close, burying his face against my shoulder. I pulled him tightly against me, sighing softly with worry.
"It's gonna be okay Dean," I promised, stroking his back as he let out a shaky breath.
I led him back to the couch, seating him and then moving toward the fridge. He grabbed my hand, looking anxiously at me and I leaned in to kiss him. "I'm coming right back," I promised and he nodded, letting me go.
I crossed to the fridge and pulled out a beer, cracking it open and taking it back to him. Dean accepted it with a smile and then pulled me down beside him. I picked up the book I'd discarded on the coffee table before going to the bathroom and started to read again while he sat comfortably next to me, feet resting on the coffee table and sipping at his beer.
The door opened and Sam entered, taking in the scene of the broken clock on the floor and the pair of us on the couch.
"Everything all right?" He asked cautiously.
"Oh yeah," Dean answered, taking another sip of beer. "Just peachy. Find anything?"
"Yeah. Jessie O'Brien's body was cremated, so I'm pretty sure she is not our ghost," Sam said, dropping into an armchair and putting his feet up on the table. Dean had started to pick at his arm again and it was bleeding. I reached out a hand to stop him.
"Hey, stop picking at that," I said softly and he pulled his hand back with a sigh.
"How are you feeling?" Sam asked, looking at Dean with concern.
"Awesome. It's nice to have my head on the chopping block again. I almost forgot what that feels like," he said and I grimaced.
"Yeah," Sam said with a sigh. I was starting to feel a little panicked myself. Why was it always Dean who was facing death? Seemed like he did it more than any of us, and then I thought about the angel wars and I frowned. Okay, so maybe we all did a little.
"It's freaking delightful," Dean continued, taking another sip of his beer.
"We'll keep looking," Sam said as Dean started to cough, gagging a little.
"Dean? Baby you okay?" I asked, twisting in my seat to look at him, my heart starting to race with alarm when I realised he was choking. "Dean?!"
Dean jumped off the couch, moving to the sink where he gagged and then spat out an object. It was too much like the time the witches had cursed him for my liking, I watched helplessly just like I had then, wondering if this was going to be the thing that finally took him from me.
He settled down once the object was out though and I rubbed his back while he grabbed at the item in the sink, rinsing it under the tap: it was a woodchip and we all frowned, looking at it.
"We've been completely ignoring the biggest clue we have: you," Sam said with a smile.
"I don't want to be a clue," Dean complained and I wholeheartedly agreed.
"The abrasions, this, the disease, it's trying to tell us something."
"Tell us what? Wood chips?" I asked shortly, feeling the frustration of not being able to do anything seep into my bones.
"Exactly," Sam said with a smug smile and I wanted to hit him, why wasn't he as panicked as the rest of us?
Lumber Mill
Sam's POV
This had to be it. There was no other explanation. I felt certain that we would get our answers here. Dean looked up at the mill apprehensively when we arrived, clearly not happy about going inside.
"I'm not going in there," he said and I sighed.
"Then stay here. Beth can be my back-up," I said and he looked a little panicked, glancing over at her.
"No! I mean… uh, you're not leaving me out here by myself," he said, setting his shoulders with a nod. He pulled out a bottle of whiskey and took a long drink from it, sighing and smiling as he capped it again. "Let's do this," he said. "It is a little spooky, isn't it?" He asked Beth as she walked up to him.
She smiled and handed him a gun, and I watched, amused as he recoiled. "Oh, I'm not carrying that. It could go off," he said, grabbing at the flashlight and holding it to his chest. "I'll man the flashlight," he declared.
I sighed, rolling my eyes as Beth tucked the extra gun into the waistband of her jeans, giving Dean and incredibly patient look – I didn't know how she did it, he was driving me insane.
"You do that," I said, shaking my head.
Once inside the EMF reader started to go off, and I realised that Dean was standing next to me. He chuckled, looking a little chagrined. "EMF's not gonna work with me around, is it?"
"You don't say," I said with a shake of my head. "Come on."
"Wait…" Beth said suddenly and Dean startled, looking at her with wide eyes. She leaned down to pick up something off the floor, and when she stood up she was holding a wedding ring. She held it up to the light and read the inside inscription.
"'To Frank. Love, Jessie'. Frank O'Brien's ring," she said, looking up at me.
"What the hell was Frank doing here?" Dean asked and I shrugged.
"No idea."
I led the way through the tea room, down a hallway and into a locker room. Clearly this was where all the employees kept their things. It was dark and dingy, and appeared like it hadn't been updated in decades.
There was some rustling in one of the lockers and I glanced at Beth who nodded, moving to flank the locker with a nod. I counted to three and opened the locker and a cat jumped out, meowing at us. Dean let out an ear-piercing shriek and then screamed, jumping back and stumbling toward the exit. He continued to scream until the cat ran away and then looked sheepishly at Beth and me.
"That was scary!" He said with a grin. I sighed, shaking my head and walking away. "Wait!" Dean called out, rushing to follow as he took Beth's hand, holding it tightly. I led us further down the hallway into a little office that was in complete disarray and looked like it hadn't been used in years. Paper was scattered all over the dirt floor.
Beth led Dean over to a table where there was a bunch of old drawings plastered on the wall. Dean was diligently doing his duty at manning the flashlight while Beth sorted through the papers. She picked up a card, looking at it.
"Luther Garland," she said quietly, shrugging. Dean was looking at one of the pictures.
"Hey this is uh… this is Frank's wife," he said, pulling out a news article with a photo of Jessie in it.
"Plot thickens," I said, joining them.
"Yeah, but into what?" Beth asked, frowning at the drawing.
I reached out to tear one of the pictures off the wall and suddenly one of the machines turned on, whirring to life without anyone having done a thing. Dean jumped at the noise, shining the flashlight around looking for something, anything that might have caused the machine to go off. I frowned and looked at him, he was totally freaking out. Dean was staring behind me, looking terrified and I turned to see what he was looking at.
There was a figure in the corner of the room, facing in and hunched over. I hesitated and Beth moved up beside me, watching curiously. "Hey!" I called out, and the man flinched.. Dean was backing away from the scene and I glanced back at him just in time to see Dean running out the door.
The person turned around and Beth caught her breath, he looked menacingly at us, abrasions all over his bald head. He ran at Beth and me, and I lifted the shotgun and fired, he disappeared into thin air.
"Guess we got the right place," I said and she nodded, turning to lead us back outside. I followed her back to the Impala where we found Dean crouched behind the trunk, chugging down the remainder bottle of whiskey in his hands. Beth reached out, taking the bottle from him and smoothing a hand across his forehead and he seemed to relax a little.
"Hey," she said, crouching in front of him. "You okay?" He shook his head, looking like a big cry baby at her. I rolled my eyes, she was way too good to him, he needed to be pulled up and set straight. Fancy running out on us in the middle of a hunt. No wonder he was always getting in trouble, these two were as co-dependent as they came – I was only just starting to see it. I'd seen things a lot clearer while Dean was in Hell and Ruby had pointed out a few home truths. I was clearly not far off the mark when I said she was making him weak, they couldn't function without each other, it wasn't healthy.
Sheriff's Office
Beth's POV
Deputy Linus handed a folder to Sam with a smile. "This is the Garland file," he said and Sam nodded, flipping through it. Linus looked over our shoulders at Dean, who was standing near the door way, swaying on his feet a little. I'd tried to get him to stay in the car, but he was steadfastly refusing to leave my side.
"Is he…drunk?" Linus asked and Sam turned to look at Dean, who gave us a big smile and thumbs up.
"No," Sam said sternly. "Deputy, according to this, Luther Garland's cause of death was physical trauma. What does that mean?"
"The guy died twenty years ago, before my time. Sorry," he answered.
"Then can we talk to the Sheriff?" I asked and Linus shifted uncomfortably.
"Um, he's out sick today," he said.
"Well, if you see him, will you have him call us? We're staying at the Bluebird," Sam said, closing the file and holding it up. "Mind if I take this?" He didn't wait for an answer, turning on his heel and walking back toward the door. I followed, and Dean swayed again, looking at Linus.
"Know what? You're awesome," he told the deputy with a grin.
"Thanks. Um, y-you too, I guess," Linus replied and I snickered, putting my hand on Dean's arm and guiding him toward the door.
"Come on Sir, we have more research to do," I said, leading him out.
Sam was waiting outside for us, leaning on the car.
"So what now?" I asked and he inclined his head toward the South of town.
"Luther had a brother, time to get some answers," he replied.
Peaceful Pines Assisted Living
Beth's POV
By the time we'd made it inside Dean was starting to panic. He bumped into a resident coming around the corner and jumped back, grabbing my arm.
"This isn't gonna work," he said anxiously to me. "Come on, these badges are fake. What if we get busted? We could go to jail!" He said and Sam sighed, looking at him.
"Man you should have stayed in the car," he said, looking at me. "Can't you do something?"
I stopped walking and pulled Dean around to face me. "Dean, shh! Calm down," I said, looking into his eyes. "Take a deep breath, okay?" Dean complied, sucking in a breath and then letting it out slowly. I smiled. "There. You feel better?" Dean shook his head no and I sighed. "Just, relax okay? It's fine, everything is going to be fine. Come on," I said, taking his arm and leading him after Sam who was waiting a few yards away. Dean started to reach for his arm and I batted his hand away. "Don't scratch," I instructed and he frowned at me.
Mr Garland was sitting at a table in a communal dining area when we found him.
"Mr Garland?" Sam asked and he looked up at us, nodding slightly. "Hi, uh, I'm Agent Tyler. This is Agents Perry and Kramer, FBI. We'd like to ask you a few questions about your brother Luther."
Garland sat back in his seat, looking at us appraisingly. "Let me see some ID," he said and I felt Dean stiffen beside me, glancing frantically about.
"Certainly," Sam said with ease, reaching in to pull out his badge. I followed his direction, and then Dean did as well, holding his badge out to be inspected. Garland took the badges, looking them over and glancing back at us. Dean started to squirm beside me, but there was nothing I could do, I was supposed to be his work partner, not his wife, I couldn't comfort him the way I wanted to.
"Those are real, obviously," Dean said with a smile and Sam cleared his throat loudly. "I mean, who would pretend to be an FBI agent, huh? That's just nutty," he said, and Garland raised his eyebrows at us flipping the badges closed and handing them back.
"What do you want to know?" He asked finally.
We sat down, Sam pulling out the file on Luther. "Uh, well… according to this, your brother Luther died of physical trauma," he began and Garland scoffed at us.
"You don't agree?" I asked, and he looked at me with sad eyes.
"No, I don't."
"Well, then, what would you call it?" Sam asked.
"Don't matter what an old man thinks," he replied, looking away.
"Mr Garland," I said, leaning forward. "We're just trying to get the truth on your brother. Please."
He looked at us for a short while, and then came to a decision. "Everybody was scared of Luther," he said, reaching over to take the ID card from the mill in his hands, looking fondly at the photo. "They called him a monster," he started. "He was too big, too mean-looking. Just too different. Didn't matter he was the kindest man I ever knew. Didn't matter he'd never hurt no one…" he paused, looking out the window again, lost in his thoughts. "A lot of people failed Luther. I was one of them. I was a widower with three young 'uns. And I told myself there was nothing I could do."
"Mr Garland, do you recognise this woman?" Sam asked, sliding the drawing of Frank's wife in front of him.
"It's Jessie O'Brien," Garland replied with a nod. "Her man Frank, killed Luther."
"How do you know that?" I asked.
"Everybody knows. They just don't talk about it," he replied. "Jessie was a receptionist at the mill. She was always real nice to Luther, and he had a crush on her. But Frank didn't like it. And when Jessie went missing, Frank was sure that Luther had done something to her. Turns out the old gal killed herself, but Frank didn't know that." I nodded. "They found Luther with a chain wrapped around his neck. He was dragged up and down the stretch outside that plant til he was past dead." I grimaced and thought about what a horrible way to die that would be.
"And O'Brien was never arrested?" Dean asked.
"I screamed to every cop in town. They didn't want to look into Frank. He was a pillar of the community. My brother was just the town freak," Garland said sadly.
"You must have hated Frank O'Brien," Sam said.
"I did for a long time, but life's too short for hate son," he said with a smile, looking at Sam. That statement hit me hard, and I glanced over at Sam, thinking about the frustration and anger I'd been harbouring toward him lately. "And Frank wasn't thinking straight. His wife had vanished, he was terrified. A damn shame he had to put Luther through the same, but… that's fear. It spreads and spreads."
He was right about that. The only thing Sam and I had lived on during Dean's time in Hell was fear. Fear that we'd never see him again, fear of what was happening to him, fear that we might never save him from his fate… We all had it, and it affected us all in different ways. Just the same, it seemed like an easy excuse for Sam to use to explain why he turned on me, and took up with Ruby. I still prayed constantly for the courage to forgive and forget, but the sting of his rejection, his words, still sat heavy in my heart.
Peaceful Pines
Dean's POV
This was just getting worse and worse. I was starting to think we were insane. I scratched at my arm again, stopping when Beth reached out a hand to me. "Now we know what these are, road rash," I said and she nodded. "And I'm guessing Luther swallowed some wood chips when he was being dragged down that road." I shuddered, not wanting to think about how it would be like to die like that. Strangely enough, road haul was not something I'd endured in Hell.
"Makes sense," Sam said with a nod. "You're experiencing his death in slow motion."
"Yeah, well, not slow enough huh? What say we burn some bones and get me healthy?" I said, turning to Beth. She bit her lip and I that told me that something wasn't quite right.
"Dean, it won't be that easy," she said softly and I frowned.
"No, no it'll be that easy," I argued, but I could see it in her eyes. "Why wouldn't it be that easy?"
Beth sighed and reached out a hand to rest it against my cheek. "Baby, Luther was road-hauled. His body was ripped to pieces. He was probably scattered all over that road," she said, watching me with concerned eyes. "There's no way we're going to find all the remains." I felt myself go white with the thought.
"You're kidding me?" I said, my heart starting to race just a little bit faster.
"Look, we'll just have to figure something else out," Sam said and I pulled back from Beth, shaking my head.
"You know what? Screw this!" I declared, walking away and waving my arm in the air.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Dean," Sam said, walking toward me but I held out a hand to stop him coming closer.
"Come on!" I said. "No, I mean, come on, Sam. What are we doing?!" I asked, looking from him to Beth.
"We're hunting a ghost," Sam said.
"A ghost! Exactly! Who does that?!" I asked, shaking my head.
"Us," Beth said and I sighed, moving back toward her and taking her arms in my hands.
"Us? Right. And that sugarpie, that is exactly why our lives suck. I mean, come on, we hunt monsters! What the hell?! I mean, normal people, they see a monster, and they run. But not us, no, no, no, we - we search out things that want to kill us. Yeah? Huh? Or eat us! You know who does that? Crazy people!" I looked at her and she shook her head at me patiently, reaching out a hand to rest it on my chest. I could feel my heart already starting to beat faster with anxiety. "We...are insane!" I pulled away and started to pace.
"You know, and then there's the bad diner food and then the skeevy motel rooms and then the truck-stop waitress with the bizarre rash. I mean, who wants this life, guys? Huh? Seriously? Do you actually like being stuck in a car with me eight hours a day, every single day? I don't think so! I mean, I drive too fast. And I listen to the same five albums over and over and over again, a-and I sing along. I'm annoying, I know that. I seriously don't know what you see in me Beth." I looked over at Sam. "And you - you're gassy! You eat half a burrito, and you get toxic! I mean, you know what?" I tossed the keys to Sam, pulling away and walking down the street. "You can forget it."
"Whoa, Dean. Where are you going?" Sam called out.
"Stay away from me guys, okay? 'Cause I am done with it. I'm done with the monsters, and – and – and the hell hounds and the ghost sickness and the damn Apocalypse! I'm out. I'm done. I quit!"
"Dean!" Beth called out after me, but I waved her off. I'd make it up to her later, right now I just had to get away, I had to be on my own to think things through.
Suddenly I heard a noise behind me, and I turned, thinking it was Beth, but then I heard the growling and I saw red. They were here they had come for me. I was going to die and I was going back to Hell, where they'd all be waiting for me, and I'd be tied back to that rack, and forced to…. I shook my head, no. No. I wasn't going back, I didn't care what I had to do, I had to run, I had to get away.
I took off, the Hell hound chasing me as I fled down the street getting further and further away from where I'd left Sam and Beth. I needed to escape, there was no time to double back and get help. I flew around a dumpster and ran into a shopping cart, knocking it and all its contents flying. A homeless man looked up, startled at me, and I stopped, pointing at the hellhound.
"Run!" I yelled. "It'll kill you!" I said, but he didn't believe me. I yelled again and started running down the alley. I had to get back to the motel.
Motel Room
Dean's POV
Beth looked so relieved when she saw me back at the motel room, rushing over to check me over with gentle hands.
"We looked everywhere for you Dean. How the Hell did you get here?" She asked as she turned worried eyes to me.
"Ran," I said and she frowned. That was a good couple of miles away where we'd been. I'd run the whole way and I could see her thinking this through. "What do we do now?" I asked. "I got less than four hours on the clock. I'm gonna die, Beth."
"Yeah, you are," she said, looking at me and I startled, not expecting that. "You're going back," she said.
"Back?" I asked.
"Downstairs Dean, Hell. It's about damn time, too. Truth is…" I stared in horror as her eyes turned black and she smirked at me. "You've been a real pain in our asses," she said, and I turned to see Sam with yellow eyes watching us. With a flick of his hand he propelled me against the wall.
"No! You get out of my wife!" I said, looking at Beth's black eyes. "You get out of my brother you evil son of a bitch!" I yelled at Sam as he approached me, his eyes fading back to his own.
"No one's possessing me, Dean. This is what I'm going to become. This is what I want to become," Sam said to me. "Then I'm going to turn Beth, and there's nothing you can do about it," he said with a smirk, starting to choke me.
"Hey, hey, hey, hey Dean!" Sam called out and I snapped out of it in time to see Beth with her hands on my chest, Sam holding my arms firmly.
"Dean, it's okay," she said, looking at me. "It's okay."
I sighed, feeling my legs sag under me. Nothing was okay, this was a freaking nightmare!
Lumber Mill
A few hours later
Beth's POV
We'd been waiting for Bobby to arrive and I was starting to feel itchy, anxious to get back to Dean.
"Relax, Beth. He'll be fine, he's a big boy," Sam said to me and I sighed.
"Yeah, right," I muttered, starting to pace. Bobby pulled up in his car and I smiled, moving to hug him as he got out and approached us.
"Hey Bobby," I said and he smiled, squeezing me tight.
"Hey baby girl, how are you?" He asked, and I shook my head, tears springing to my eyes.
"I uh, I'll be a lot better once we figure this out," I said, putting on a brave face.
Bobby nodded and looked over at Sam. "Howdy, Sam."
"Hey Bobby. Thanks for coming so quick," Sam said as we walked over to him.
"Where's Dean?" Bobby asked.
"Uh, home, sick," I answered, the anxiety flooding back to me. I had to go I had to check on him.
Motel Room
Dean's POV
I was sitting on the couch, scratching freely at my arm since Beth wasn't around to stop me, and watching cartoons – Gumby and Pokey were out in the wild west when suddenly Pokey was lassoed by a madman and dragged along behind a vehicle. I froze, starting at the TV and then looking down at my arm.
"Oh this isn't helping..." I muttered, shaking my head. Thinking of Gumby just made me think of Lisa, and I groaned internally. We'd only gotten around to telling her I was back from Hell a few months ago, now Beth was going to have to go and break the news to her that I'd died of a heart attack. She was going to eat Beth alive.
Lumber Mill
Beth's POV
"So have his hallucinations started yet?" Bobby asked and we both nodded.
"Yeah, a few hours ago," Sam said quietly.
"How we doing on time?"
"We saw the coroner around 8am Monday morning, so uh, just under two hours," I said, my heart racing. "What about you? Did you find anything?"
Bobby pulled out a small book, handing it to me. "This uh, encyclopaedia of spirits dates to the Edo period," he said and I flipped through it, it was all in Japanese. I started to skim through some of the words while Sam looked incredulously at Bobby.
"You can read Japanese?" He asked, looking up at Bobby.
Bobby answered in Japanese, stating that he'd known how to read Japanese for longer than Sam had been born. Sam smirked, shaking his head.
"Guess so," he said.
Bobby raised his eyebrow at me and I grinned. My Japanese was nowhere near as fluent as Bobby's but I could hold my own in a conversation. "Sam likes to think he's the only one who is educated among us," I said to Bobby in Japanese, hoping I didn't screw up the grammar.
I still did some of the lessons I had on tape occasionally, trying to get better, but it certainly wasn't as good as it could have been. My lessons had kind of been interrupted the day Bobby had blown up at John and Cole when he found out about them being involved, and then Sam had dropped his own bombshell by leaving us for college. It had been years before I'd seen Bobby again. Sam stared at me in surprise, shaking his head. "Show off," he said and Bobby chortled.
"Anyway, this book lists a kind of ghost that could be our guy," he said, flipping to a page. "It uh, infects people with fear. It's called a buruburu."
"Does it say how to kill it?" Sam asked.
"Sam as usual. Burn the remains," Bobby said.
"Wonderful…" I muttered. "Uh, is there a Plan B?" I asked.
"Well, the buruburu is born of fear. Hell, it is fear. And the lore says we can kill it with fear," he said.
"So we have to scare a ghost to death?" Sam asked.
"Pretty much," Bobby said with a nod.
I felt sick to my stomach.
An hour later I knew I had to go. I pulled out my phone and rang Dean, he picked up almost immediately.
"Hey," he said.
"Hey," I replied, smiling into the phone, trying not to sound as panicked as I felt. "So uh, just ride out the trip, okay? You're gonna be fine. Bobby's here and … you're gonna be fine. We got a plan."
"What is it?" Dean asked and I hesitated, he wasn't going to like it.
"Uh, just a good plan, all right?" I said. "Hang in there, I'm gonna come back and sit with you, okay?"
"Yeah, okay. Good. Good." He said, and I looked at Sam and Bobby.
"Okay, I'll be there soon." I said, hanging up and looking at them.
"This is a terrible plan!" Bobby said.
"Yeah, tell me about it," I agreed.
"I know I said, 'scare the ghost to death,' but this?" Bobby asked incredulously.
"Hey, you got a better idea, I'm listening," Sam said and I looked at him, sighing. I didn't. None of us did.
"Okay, I'm going to go back to Dean, see if I can't keep him calm or something, try to stave this off as long as we can so you guys have time to… you know." Bobby nodded, looking at me worried.
"Go be with Dean, we'll call you when it's done, though you should be able to tell," he said and I nodded as he tossed me his keys. I took them and almost ran to his car.
Lumber Mill
Sam's POV
Luther refused to show up when I went inside, stalking around and looking for him. I thought about the iron chain Bobby had etched with spell work. I put it near the door and progressed further into the little room we'd last seen Luther in as Bobby's voice crackled over the walkie-talkie I was holding.
"Any luck?"
"I don't know what's wrong Bobby. Last time he came right at us. It's almost like he's, uh… like he's scared," I said, the realisation dawning on me. Of course he was scared, this was where he'd had his life taken from him. I put the shotgun down on the floor, standing up again slowly.
Motel Room
Dean's POV
I hung up from Beth, stilling my erratic breathing and fighting off a panic attack. She'd only been gone an hour and a half, it wasn't long, not in the scheme of things, and she was coming back now. It was going to be okay.
Dogs started to bark and I looked up, they were everywhere. They were coming for me! Suddenly the door to the room rattled and I hid behind an armchair, watching. When it broke off its hinges I stared at the Sheriff, standing menacingly in the doorway.
"Sheriff?" I asked, looking down at the gun in his hand. "What are you doing?"
"Why are you looking into Luther Garland's death?" He asked and I realised at the same time he had the same dried up blood on his arm that I did.
"Hey, hey, you're – you're sick. You're sick. You're sick all right?" I tried to reason with him. "Just – just like me, okay?" I said, holding up my own arm. "You got to relax."
The Sheriff stepped forward and hit me, and I staggered back. "Frank O'Brien was my friend. So he made a mistake. So I didn't bust him. So what? And you're gonna bring me down over that?! No, sir," he said, pointing his gun at me. I pushed his arm away and we both looked a little surprised that the gun didn't shoot us both at the same time. The Sheriff recovered, slamming me into the wall and pressing an arm up against my neck while I tried to fight him off, pushing at his face. He got in a couple of blows to my ribs and I managed to force his arms up, socking a few punches to his stomach.
He pushed me back against the wall and then started to hesitate. I used the split second to throw him across the room and he landed on the coffee table, bringing it to the floor under him. I took a couple of slow steps toward him when suddenly the Sheriff started to hyperventilate and he pushed away from me. "Get away from me!" He cried out and I reached forward.
"Al, you got to calm down!" I said.
"Step back!" He cried and then he fell to the floor, gasping for breath and then going deathly still. I sighed, looking at him, and seeing what was going to become of me. Oh this wasn't good. Where the hell was Beth?
Lumber Mill
Sam's POV
"So now what?" Bobby asked and I frowned, contemplating.
"I guess I got to make him angry," I replied, thinking it through. "Hey Luther!" I yelled, picking up one of the drawings he'd done of Jessie O'Brien and tearing it in half. Nothing. I picked up another one, ripping it to shreds and the machines started to turn on. Now I knew I had his attention.
"Come on Luther! Where the hell are you? What are you waiting for?" I spun around and Luther was right in my face.
Motel Room
Dean's POV
I sat down on the bed, and all I could hear was Sam's voice in my head. "You're going back…." More hell hounds barked and howled in the distance and I startled, knocking something to the floor from the bed. I glanced down and saw Beth's bible lying on the floor, and I picked it up, holding it to my chest and rocking, trying to stay calm.
"Hi Dean," said a little girl's voice and I glanced over to see the blonde childish figure of Lilith sitting next to me.
"Huh, no! No!" I said, turning away and shaking my head. It wasn't real. It wasn't real
"Yes! It's me, Lilith!" She said childishly, jumping up and hugging me. "Oh I missed you so much. It's time to go back now," she said.
I pulled away from her, standing up and walking away, gesturing at her, but not looking at her directly. "You – you are not real!"
"What's the matter, Dean? Don't you remember all the fun you had down there?" She asked, and the pain was clear in my eyes. "Surely you remember my sister Ashmedai. Four months is like forty years in Hell. Like doggy years. And you remember every second."
I clutched at my chest, my heart beating so fast I thought it might burst at any time. I couldn't go back, I wouldn't go back. I collapsed to the floor, and the blood rushed in my ears and spots formed in front of my eyes, how was I going to get out of this? "You are not real," I said again, shaking my head.
"It doesn't matter. You're still gonna die. You're still gonna burn." Lilith said, taking my face in her hands.
"Why me? Why'd I get infected?" I asked.
"Silly goose!" Lilith said with a childish smile. "You know why, Dean. Listen to your heart." She morphed suddenly into the demon I'd known in Hell and she smiled at me, reminding me of everything she'd subjected me too.
I grabbed her, throwing her a good three yards off the bed and into a wall, she hit hard with a cry of pain. I jumped off the bed, throwing myself at her, with a punch to the gut and then backhanding her across the face. She tried to block the hit, but failed, hitting the wall again.
"You can't fight it Dean, you're going to die and I'm coming to get you," she said, holding her arms up as I hit her again, grabbing her arms and tossing her into another wall. She stood up, blocking the next punch and hitting me back, getting in a lucky punch to my face. It stung and I glared at her, grabbing her by the head and smashing my forehead into hers. She stumbled back and tried to run, but I was on to it.
I threw myself at her, spinning her to me and she looked scared. "Dean... Dean it's me!" She called out.
"Just stay away from me!" I yelled, and I punched her again and then kicked her in the gut, dropping her to the ground. She cried out, grabbing her stomach and curling into a ball. "Get away from me."
Lumber Mill
Sam's POV
Luther punched me, tossing me across the room and I struggled to get a hold of the chains I'd left by the door. He was much stronger than I'd been expecting. He picked me up like I was nothing more than a ragdoll, rolling me on to my back and then smashing my head into the compacted dirt floor over and over. My hand finally came into contact with the chain and I moved quickly, wrapping it around his neck while the spirit gave me a terrified look.
"Bobby, punch it!" I yelled and I heard the wheels of the Impala squealing as Bobby pulled away, taking the Spirit with him. I stood up, watching and then suddenly the spirit vanished.
Motel Room
Dean's POV
My heart was pounding in my chest and I thought it was going to explode. I was dying, this was it. I was going to die and Lilith was going to take me to Hell, and I'd be forced to endure that pain again. I would kill her before I let that happen. I pulled her up by her hair. Suddenly those eyes bled through to brown and I frowned, looking at this woman on the floor.
"Beth?" I said, confused. My heart rate dropped and I noticed the road rash disappear. Sam had succeeded in killing the ghost, but what had I done?
"Baby? Beth, what have I done?" I said and her head lolled to the side as I felt for a pulse, it was faint but thready.
"Oh God... what have I done?" I said and I stood, moving to get my phone and call Sam. The phone dialled painstakingly slow as I looked over at her body on the floor.
"Sam? Sammy you have to get back here!" When he answered, he sounded confused. "It's Beth, hurry."
I ran a hand across my face, and then she moved, startling me. She stood up, her eyes flashed blue and I frowned.
"Beth?"
"Stay back," she said in a monotone voice.
"Hey..." I reached out a hand to her, taking a few steps and she backed away.
"I have to protect her," she said.
"Protect who?" I asked and she frowned, taking a few steps back.
"Beth, you're really hurt, you need to..." She didn't even wait for me to finish, turning and running out the door. I chased after her, but she was gone as soon as I reached the door.
"What the hell?" I said, my heart starting to beat frantically. What the hell was going on?
Ten minutes later the Impala screeched to a halt in front of the motel room and I hurried to meet Sam.
"What is it? What's wrong with Beth?" He asked.
"I dunno... I... at the end of the … I thought she was Lilith! She's hurt... and she just..."
"Dean! Slow down! Where is Beth, man?" Sam asked, grabbing my shoulders as Bobby came around with a concerned look in his eyes.
"She's gone," I said, looking at him. "Sammy she's gone."
AUTHOR'S NOTES
Song for this chapter is: Ghosts by Mayday Parade
I'm amazed I actually got this done before I head off tomorrow for the weekend. I apologise if it's not up to my usual quality – I think it's okay, but then I'm also high on cold & flu tablets right now. Poor Dean. Things just aren't going his way at all It's okay, I promise, they're going to get through this!
Come check out the Facebook page if you're interested: just search for Dean & Beth – Supernatural Fanfic. I'm always posting pics and other random updates related to the fanfic there. I also tend to ask questions and you get a chance to post feedback in relation to the fanfic around possible takes on the story. It's all good fun.
Samhain features next. Please make my day and leave a review