Until the end of me,
You'll be the death of me.
I dare you to cross the line again,
Cause deep down inside,
There's something that waits to be-
Broken Inside,
Feeling alive.
Forced to defy,
Who casts me aside.
I'm waiting to be,
Broken Inside,
Losing my mind.
Gasping for life,
Crashing through tides.
That drive me to find,
The darkness behind,
Will never run dry.
But all still stand.
DEATH TAKES A HOLIDAY
Diner
Beth's POV
Dean's face was thoughtful as he punched a button on the jukebox in the cosy little diner we found ourselves in. I sipped on my coffee, inhaling the aroma of the coffee beans as I savoured the cream and sugar I had just added to it.
"No, no, no, you're right, it's definitely weird," Sam said into his phone, drawing my attention. "Okay, Bobby, thanks." Sam finished the call and put his phone away as Dean walked up and sat down heavily in the seat next to me.
"What's up?" He asked, looking over at Sam.
Sam was already typing at the laptop in front of him. "Bobby found something in Wyoming," he answered, concentrating on the screen.
"A job?" I asked, looking up.
"Maybe," Sam replied as Dean put his hands around his burger and took a big bite, chewing thoughtfully.
"Small town," Sam said. "No one's died in the past week and a half."
"That so unusual?" Dean asked around his mouth full of food.
"Well it's how they're not dying," Sam answered. "One guy with terminal cancer strolls right out of hospice. Another guy gets capped by a mugger and walks away without a scratch."
"Capped in the ass?" Dean asked curiously.
Sam spun the computer around to face us and I quickly skimmed the article in front of me. "Shooting victim walks away unharmed," I read out loud. "Man miraculous survives after direct shot to the heart…" I said, my voice trailing off.
"Police say Mr Jenkins was shot in the heart and point-blank range by a nine-millimetre," Sam said.
Dean continued to eat loudly next to me, looking on incredulously.
"How is he not dead?" I asked. That was a kill shot, no one would walk away from something like that.
"Locals are saying it's a miracle," Sam said.
"Okay…" Dean said with a frown.
"It's got to be something nasty, right?" Sam asked, looking at us both. "I mean, people making deals or something."
I took another sip of my coffee, thinking this over. It sounded as plausible as anything else I supposed. "Well, I guess it could be…" I said.
"You think?" Dean asked with a mouth full of food.
"What else would it be?" Sam asked.
"I don't know," Dean conceded with a shrug.
"All right," Sam said, putting the laptop in his bag and standing up as if a decision had just been made. He looked down at Dean still eating his burger and the cup of coffee in my hands and half a plate of untouched Monte Cristo sandwich. "Get that to go," he instructed.
Dean paused, looking down at the burger in his hands and continuing to chew on his food while I stood up and waved the waitress over.
"Sure you want me going with you?" Dean asked randomly and I frowned at him.
"Why wouldn't I?" Sam asked, confused.
"I don't want to be holding you back or nothing," Dean said, and that sinking feeling came into my stomach. They'd been over this time and time again since the siren attack, but things didn't seem to be much better between them.
"Dean…" I groaned with a cautioning tone.
Sam sighed, rolling his eyes, and said, "Dude, I've told you a hundred times, that was the siren talking, not me. Can we get past this?"
Dean put his burger down and looked up at me, shrugging. I shrugged back at him and he sighed, nodding. "Yeah, we're past it," he said brusquely, brushing the crumbs from his hands and standing up.
Jim Jenkins' House
Greybull, Wyoming
Beth's POV
Jim was looking at us a little dubiously, but I plastered a smile to my face to reassure him, trying not to seem out of place.
"Now, you three said you were bloggers?" Jim asked, sitting down at the table with us after throwing a look at his wife and daughter in the other room.
"Yes, sir. Floored by the Lord dot com," Sam said with a smile.
"All of God's glory fit to blog," Dean added with a grin. I almost rolled my eyes at the over acting, but Jim seemed to buy it.
"Um," I said to him, trying to bring the conversation back to semi-normal. "Some of the people around town are saying what happened to you was a miracle."
"It was," he said, looking me straight in the eye. "Plain as day."
"How can you be so sure?" I asked.
"How else do you explain it?" He questioned. "The doctors can't. There's a bullet in my heart, and it's pumping like a piston."
"Well, how do you explain it?" Dean asked. Jim hesitated, tossing a look at his daughter.
"Look, honestly," he said, lowering his voice and leaning forward just a little "I was nobody's saint – not exactly father of the year, either."
"Okay," Dean said with a nod.
"But when that guy shot me and I didn't bleed a drop? I just knew the Lord was giving me a second chance," he said.
"That so?" Dean questioned with a dubious look to his face.
"I had this feeling – like angels were watching over me," Jim continued. He paused, taking a look at us and it was as if he was trying to get us to believe him, to understand, possibly even to explain it to him.
"I wouldn't expect your guys to understand," he said finally.
"Well, we'll just have to try," I said with a smile.
"You wouldn't have happened to have swung by a crossroads in the past week or so?" Sam asked.
Jim looked at him confused, his brow furrowing. "No."
"Maybe you met someone? With black eyes? Or red?" Sam continued.
Leaning forward, Jim started to look suspicious. "Who'd you lot say you were again?" He asked.
I exchanged a look with Dean who frowned and shrugged. "Never mind," he answered for us, starting to rise from his seat. "Thank you for your time."
Motel Room
Dean's POV
I leaned back into Beth's hands as she kneaded my shoulders, moaning a little as the tension started to leave me for the first time in days.
"You are so tense!" She said as she rubbed the back of my neck. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine… just the same old stuff," I replied, trying not to worry her. The truth was I didn't know what was going on. Sam was slipping and I didn't know how to save him, Beth was worried, I could tell how she would toss and turn at night, never resting until I pulled her in close and slowly stroked across her forehead to get her to sleep. That siren had done our heads in, and I didn't know what to do about any of this.
The door opened and Sam stepped into the room, I looked up from where I'd been leaning back, eyes closed, asking, "Anything?"
Sam looked at us while Beth took a seat next to me. "That cancer survivor? He was clinically dead, his wife pulled the plug, and now he's take her out for their twentieth anniversary," Sam answered.
"Any sign of a deal?" Beth asked.
"No. What about you? Found anyone dying around here?" He asked.
"Not since Cole Griffith," I replied, spinning the laptop around to face him, revealing the obituary I'd been reading earlier. "He dropped ten days ago. It was the last death I could find."
"So, what are you thinking?" Sam asked.
"Maybe it is what people say it is," Beth said, reaching for a bottle of water and taking a drink.
"Miracles?" Sam asked dubiously. "Beth, our experience, when do miracles just happen?"
"Well there's no deals," she answered with a shrug. "There's no … skeevy faith healers."
I got up from the table, walking over to the kitchenette to pour myself a cup of coffee. "It's as if these souls just ain't getting dragged into the light," I said, turning around.
Sam sat on the end of one of the beds and looked thoughtful. "Maybe 'cause there's no one around to carry them," he said finally, looking up at Beth.
"What do you mean?" I asked, frowning.
"Well, grim reapers – that's what they do, right? Schlep souls? So, if death ain't in town…."
"Then nobody's dying," Beth said, expelling a long breath and nodding.
"So what? The local reaper's on strike?" I asked. "Playing the back nine?" It seemed a little far fetched to me. "I don't know guys…"
"Well, then, let's talk to someone who might," Sam said.
"Well, last time I checked, Huggy Bear ain't available," I said sarcastically.
"No, dude, the kid," Sam said.
"The kid?" I asked. "The kid's a doornail."
"Exactly," Sam replied with a nod. "Look, if he was the last person to die around here, then maybe he's seen something. We should talk to him."
I paused, not for the first time in utter amazement at how messed up our lives were that a statement like that was said with a straight face and complete understanding that we could pull it off.
"I love how matter-of-fact you are about that," I muttered, taking a drink of coffee. "Strange lives."
Cemetery
Beth's POV
The tombstone read "Beloved Son – Cole Griffith 1997 – 2009. Forever in our memories." I always found it amazing that people got headstones put up so quickly, did they not know the ground needed to settle first before anything heavy was put on it? Then again, this was a headstone, not a full gravestone. Lucky for us.
Sam had laid five candles out around a pentacle that was drawn on a cloth which was now spread over the grave. Dean was flipping through John's journal looking dubiously at us.
"You sure this is gonna work?" He asked finally, and I exchanged a look with Sam, shrugging.
"No," I answered. "But if his spirit's around, this should smoke him out."
Sam added the final ingredients of the spell to the bowl next to us and Dean closed the journal with a frustrated snap.
"What?" Sam asked, looking up at our brother.
"This job is jacked, that's what," Dean answered, catching my gaze.
"How so?" Sam asked.
Dean sighed, looking around the cemetery. "You want me to gank a monster or torch a corpse, hey, let's light it up right?" He shrugged. "But this? If we fix whatever this is, people are gonna start dropping dead. Good people."
I stood up and walked over to him, nodding. "Yeah, I don't want them to die, either, Dean. But there is a natural order."
"You're kidding right?" Dean asked me, raising his eyebrow.
"What?" I asked.
"You don't see the irony in that?" He questioned. "I mean, you and me, Sam… we're like the… the poster boys and girl of the unnatural order. All we do is ditch death."
"Yeah, but the normal rules don't apply to us, do they?" Sam asked, walking up to the pair of us. Dean stared at our little brother, clearly a bit stunned by that statement.
"We're no different than anybody else," he said finally.
Sam chuckled and shook his head. "I'm infected with demon blood. You've been to Hell. And Beth, well she's a vessel for an entire angelic line!" I frowned, rubbing at my temples. He kind of had a point. Dean said nothing, simply looking away thoughtfully.
"Look, I know you guys want to think of yourselves as Joe the Plumber, or whatever, but you're not. Neither am I. The sooner you both accept that, the better off we're all gonna be." Sam said.
Dean looked up with a frown, shaking his head slightly. "Ah, Joe the Plumber was a douche," he muttered.
"You gonna help me finish this?" Sam asked, looking at me. I nodded. We turned back to the grave when we heard a voice call out.
"Hey!" The three of us turned, seeing a man carrying a flashlight walking toward us.
"What are you doing here?" The man asked, and we startled, looking at the candles on the grave, the pentacle, and realising there simply was no easy way to save this situation. Didn't mean we weren't going to try.
"Uh…" Sam said. "Just take it easy."
"What the Hell is this?!" The man asked loudly as he got a better look at the candles.
"Okay, this – this – this is not what it looks like," Dean attempted with an awkward laugh, looking at me.
"Really?" The man asked. "'Cause it looks like devil worship."
"No! No, this is not devil worship…" Dean answered. "This – this is – this – this is, uh…." He finally shrugged, giving up.
"I don't have a good answer," he said softly to me.
"We're leaving," Sam said. The man turned to look at him, his neck tilting as his head fell to one side.
"You're not going anywhere," he said. I frowned, looking at the man. Was he really serious? There was no way he was going to be able to stop us if we wanted to go.
"Ever again. Sam," said the man. I startled next to Dean, frowning. Sam? How did he know of Sam? As we looked on in consternation, the man's eyes faded to white and I heard Dean's breath hitch beside me.
"Alastair," he breathed as the demon's eyes faded back to normal. "I thought you got deep fried, extra-crispy."
"Nah," Alastair said matter-of-factly, "Just the paediatrician I was riding. His wife's still looking for him. It's hilarious," he laughed shortly before turning serious. "Anyway…" He turned back to Sam who was fuming at him. "No time to chat. Got a hot date with death."
Before we could move, Alastair flicked his hand toward Dean and me. I felt myself lifted from the ground, flying through the air and hitting a gravestone.
"Beth!" I heard Sam call out, and I felt myself hit hard, gasping for breath that had just been knocked out of me.
Alastair reached a hand toward Sam, flicking his hand again. I watched, gasping for air while Dean crawled up behind me, helping me to a sitting position. Nothing happened. Sam stayed where he was, feet planted to the ground. Alastair tried again with another flick of his wrist. Again, nothing.
"You're stronger Sam. You've been solo flexing with your little slut?" Alastair asked.
"You have no idea," Sam smirked. This time it was Sam's turn to flick his hand and send Alastair flying. He raised his hand like I'd seen him do months ago to exorcise a demon with just his mind. A panic crossed the eyes of the possessed man, and Alastair fled the body of the cemetery caretaker in a cloud of smoke. Surprised, I watched as the smoke vanished.
Motel Room
Dean's POV
Beth was lying in my lap, quiet and sullen. She turned her face into the palm of my hand as I reached out to stroke her cheek, her eyes closed as she let out a quiet little sigh.
We had sent Sam on a supply run, and he'd been gone a good few hours at this point. Licking our wounds, we'd curled up on our bed, turned on our favourite Spanish soap opera and lay quietly, both lost in our own thoughts. After about twenty minutes Beth had turned off the television, complaining about noise, and I found myself worrying about how hard she'd hit that gravestone.
"You okay?" I asked softly and she nodded, not really speaking, just sighing again.
The door to the room swung open and Sam stalked through it, tossing a couple of bags of food on the nearby table.
"How you doing?" He asked, glancing over at the pair of us.
"I'm in pain," I complained back. "That's how I'm doing. I think I have a concussion. And Beth doesn't even want to watch the Spanish Soap Opera…" I said. Sam grimaced, looking down at Beth who shrugged, remaining silent.
"You want some aspirin?" He asked. I sighed, looking over at him.
"No thanks, House," I said.
"So," Beth said, speaking for the first time in at least an hour. "Demons, huh?" Her voice was barely a whisper.
"Yeah," Sam answered. "So much for miracles."
"And what the Hell happened with Alastair again?" I asked, my hand resting in Beth's hair, running soothingly through it.
"I told you, he tried to fling me or whatever," Sam said with a shrug. He flicked his hand out to demonstrate what had basically happened to Beth and I, before walking toward the coffeemaker on the bench. "And it didn't work, so he bailed."
"Well, how come he couldn't fling you?" I asked. "He chucked you pretty good last time."
There was a sinking feeling in my stomach as I saw Sam's shoulders tighten a little bit before he turned to face us. Beth's head moved slightly to indicate she was watching Sam's reaction as closely as I was.
"Got no idea," Sam replied, his eyes not quite meeting either of ours. He turned back to the coffee maker, pouring himself a mug of caffeine before turning back as I started talking.
"Sam, do us a favour. If you're gonna keep your little secrets, we can't really stop you. But just don't treat me and Beth like idiots, okay?"
"What? Dean I'm not keeping secrets," Sam insisted, but his face clearly showed the lie.
"Mh-hm," I said sceptically. "Whatever. So, did you go back and q-and-a the dead kid?" I asked, referring to the other errand we'd sent him on.
"Didn't have to," Sam said, walking toward us with his notebook held up in the air. "Bobby called. He did some digging."
"And?" Beth asked, sitting up and frowning at the book.
"He thinks we're right. Local reaper's gone. Not just gone – kidnapped," he replied.
"By demons?" I asked, surprised. "Why?"
"Listen to this," Sam replied, flipping open his notebook. "And he bloodied death under the newborn sky – sweet to taste, but butter when once devoured."
"Swanky," I said. "What the Hell's that mean?"
"It's from a very obscure, very arcane version of Revelations," Beth said, frowning.
"Which means what I think it means?" I asked curiously.
Beth nodded. "Basically, you kill a reaper under the solstice moon…"
"Which is tomorrow night, by the way," Sam interjected.
"…You got yourself a broken seal…" I finished, nodding. "But how do you ice a reaper? You can't kill death."
"I don't know," Sam shrugged. "Maybe demons can. Where the Hell are the angels is what I want to know," he added, looking at Beth. "We could use their help for once."
Beth shrugged and shook her head. "I haven't heard anything, things are quiet on the angel radio. It's a little eerie, actually."
I sighed loudly, feeling the same old sense of responsibility sitting in my stomach. "It looks like we're gonna have to take care of this one ourselves."
"What are we gonna do, just swing in and save the friendly neighbourhood reaper?" Sam asked.
"You got a better idea, I'm all ears," I countered.
"Dean, reapers are invisible," Sam said. "The only people that can see them are the dead and the dying."
"Well…" I said, giving it a little thought, and then cringing at yet another crazy plan I was just about to suggest. "If ghosts are the only ones that can see them…"
Beth turned her deep brown eyes to look suspiciously at me. "Yeah?" She asked.
"Then we become ghosts," I said with a smirk, sitting back against the headboard and placing the icepack in my hand back on the tender part of my head.
"You do have a concussion," Sam said deadpan.
"Sound crazy, I know," I said with a nod.
"It is crazy," Beth said. I smirked at her, watching her eyes and waiting for her to get even that little glimmer of curiosity, the same one that had always been the driving force behind Cole and I getting into so much trouble when we were all younger.
"How?" She asked finally, her eyebrow raising. Yep, that was it, what I was waiting for. I had her, hook, line and sinker.
Motel Room
Next Day
Beth's POV
Dean had gone to collect Pamela for our harebrained scheme, because he knew if I went, she'd be able to convince me to abandon the whole idea. Sam opened the door when he saw them arrive and Pamela was suddenly standing in the doorway, beaming at him.
"I can't even begin to tell you how crazy you lot are," she said, walking into the room, feeling her way along a counter until she reached the table and chairs, grasping the back of a chair with her hands.
"Well, Pamela, you're a sight for sore eyes," Sam said as Pamela removed her glasses, revealing her fake white eyeballs.
"Aww, that's sweet, Grumpy," she said, putting the sunglasses back on. "What do you say to deaf people?"
Sam grimaced while Dean suppressed a snigger. I rolled my eyes and stepped up, noting Pamela's gaze fall almost immediately to me.
"Well if it isn't the silent voice of reason," she said with a grin, grabbing me and pulling me into a hug. "How are you sugar?"
"Alive," I said with a smile back. "For now."
"Yeah," Pamela said, frowning. "Which one of you brainiacs came up with astral projection?" She asked, looking from Dean to Sam. The former raised his hand in the air, looking almost proud of himself.
"Yo," Dean said with a smile.
"Of course," Pamela said, shaking her head. "Chachi."
Dean frowned and looked at Sam, mouthing the word Chachi to our little brother, who simply shrugged in return.
"So, let's be clear," Pamela started, seemingly unaware of the confusion the boys were in. "You want to rip your souls out of your bodies and take a little stroll through the spirit world?"
"Mh-hmm," Dean said with a nod.
"Do you have any idea how heavy-duty insane that is?" She queried, folding her arms across her chest.
Dean shrugged. "Maybe, but that's where the reaper is, so…"
"So, it's nuts."
"Not if you know what you're doing," Dean said.
"You don't know what you're doing," Pamela pointed out.
"No, but you do," Dean countered.
"Yeah, I do. And guess what? I'm sick of being hauled back into your angel-demon, Soc-Greaser crap," she said.
Dean frowned, tossing his hand in the air. "Look, I'd love to be kicking back with a cold one, watching Judge Judy, too."
"Nice," Pamela snarked at him. "More blind jokes?"
"You know what I mean," Dean said, shrugging. "We're talking the end of the world here, okay? No more tasselled leather pants, no more Ramones CDs, no more nothing."
Everyone fell silent and I reached out, taking Pamela's hands in my own.
"Please, Pamela. We need your help," I said softly. In my heart I knew she was right, she always did get caught in the middle of these things, but she was a fighter, just like the rest of us. She would help, she had to; she was our best hope.
Motel Room
Later That Day
Beth's POV
I closed the curtains and turned back to the room. The interior was dark and sombre, Dean was finishing off lighting some candles. As he dropped the lighter on to the table next to them, he picked on up, bringing it over to a bedside table where Pamela was sitting on a chair between the two beds in the room.
"Tell me something, geniuses. Even if you do break into the veil and find the reaper, how you gonna save it?" Pamela asked as Sam closed the curtain on the other side of the room.
"With style and class," Dean answered, smirking.
"You're gonna be three walking pieces of fog who can't touch or move anything. You'll be defenceless, hotshot," Pamela pointed out.
"I seem to recall a bunch of ghosts beating the crap out of us," Sam said with a frown, taking a seat on the bed opposite us.
"Yeah, well, they had plenty of time to practice," Pamela argued.
"Well, then, I guess we got to start cramming," Dean said stubbornly, putting his arm around me and pulling me in against his body. I fought back the nervousness sitting in my gut, and smiled up at him, hoping I looked a lot more confident than I felt about this plan.
"Wow, couple of heroes," Pamela said, and you could almost hear the eye rolling. "All right," she added with a shrug, patting the bed next to Dean. "Lie down, close your eyes."
We settled down on the beds, Sam angling himself diagonally across his bed so that his head was nearer to Pamela, and Dean lay on the right had side of the bed. I wrapped my arm around him and rested my head on his chest, so that our heads were close together and Pamela could whisper to us both quickly, if needed to bring us out of the spell.
"Animum vult decipi, ergo decipiatur. Vis, vis, vis," Pamela said, finishing her part of the ritual. "Okay, guys. That's it. Showtime."
I frowned, glancing up at Dean who shrugged and looked back at me before sitting up, pulling me with him.
"Well, nothing like shooting blanks," Dean said, sighing. "What's Plan B?"
I was busy looking at Sam, lying still on the bed, Pamela seemingly not having heard Dean at all. Movement drew me to the front of us, only to see Sam standing in front of us. He spread his hands at us and together, Dean and I turned back and I almost gushed at how cute we looked together. There was something so innocent in the way my head rested on his chest, tucked just beneath his chin, and his arm wrapped around me.
Smiling at Dean I saw him watching us, and then he turned to me, a cheeky look in his eyes. "Oh, I'm feeling so Demi Moore," he said with a grin.
"We're kind of cute together," I said with a nod, and he nodded, kissing my forehead. Sam snorted, shaking his head at us.
"All right, so, I'm assuming you're somewhere over the rainbow," Pamela said. "Remember I have to bring you back."
We watched as she stood up, leaning over Sam and whispering in his ear. "I'll whisper the incantation in your ear," she said, and then whispered something in his ear. I thought I heard something about him having a great ass and Sam smiled.
"What'd she….?" Dean asked. "What'd she say?" Sam just shrugged.
Later On
Outside everything seemed to take on a blue hue. No one could see us, it had a very surreal feeling as we walked down the sidewalk. A pretty blonde girl came jogging along the path, and ran straight through Sam, startling her. Dean laughed, turning to watch her continue along the sidewalk, completely oblivious to us at all.
"That was wild," Dean said with a chuckle. Sam looked incredulously at him and true to form, Dean stuck his arm right through Sam chest, up to his elbow. Sam looked down at it, finally looking up at our brother, his face stony.
"Am I making you uncomfortable?" Dean asked.
"Get out of me," Sam ordered. Dean pulled his arm back, shrugging.
"You're such a prude. Come on," he said, turning to start walking the way we had been headed.
Hours later we had gotten nowhere. Dean's impatience was starting to wear through.
"Oh, mean, we've been spooking this town for hours. No demons, no black smoke. I say we hit Victoria's Secret and get our peep on, huh?" He said suggestively to me. I rolled my eyes and kissed his cheek.
"Hey," Sam said, looking at us. "Three o'clock. Kid in the window."
We looked behind us, and in an upstairs window there was a kid looking down at us.
"Am I crazy, or is he looking straight at us?" I asked, curious that he could see us.
"It's cause we've seen him before," Dean said.
"We have?" Sam asked.
"Newspaper. Cole Griffith, the last person to die in this town," Dean said and sudden I saw it, the face in the paper.
It didn't any arguing at all for us to all agree to investigate the kid. By the time we got upstairs and into his bedroom his mother was in the room, getting increasingly distressed by the fact that a soccer ball was moving all by itself in her dead son's room. As the ball flew past her, bouncing off the door, Mrs Griffith put her hands to her gead.
"Oh my god!" She exclaimed, turning and hurrying out the door, waking straight through Dean and I. Cole, unnoticed by her, but clearly visible to us, was standing by the dresser, and upon seeing us, more balls came flying our way.
"Stop!" Dean cried out, putting his arm in the air. "How are you doing that?"
"Who are you?" Cole questioned.
"Relax, Cole," Sam tried in his usual dulcet tones. "It's okay."
"How do you know my name?" He asked suspiciously.
"Look, this isn't gonna be easy to hear, but… you're – dead. You a spirit. Us too." Sam said.
Dean glanced over a Sam and Cole snorted, looking at us.
"Yeah, thanks Haley Joel. I know I'm dead. What do you want?" He asked.
"We just want to talk," I said, stepping forward.
"About what?" He asked.
Griffith Kitchen,
Short Time Later
Mrs Griffith was still recovering from her encounter with the wayward soccer ball. She poured herself a glass of vodka with shaking hands, the liquid settling into the glass as she screwed the lid back on to the bottle. Cole stood impassively against the wall, watching her with careful eyes.
"I was outside all morning," he said, starting to recount the story of how he had died. He glanced at me and sighed. "They tell you to be careful when it's cold."
"Cold air can cause an asthma attack?" I asked, recalling how he had died.
Cold nodded, shrugging as he watched his mother. "But then I was in my room. It happened so fast. I called out for my mom, but nothing came out. Everything started spinning, and then iw as just standing there, looking down at my body." He leaned forward on to the dining table, letting out a slow breath.
"And that's when you saw the man?" Sam asked.
Cole nodded again. "Creepy old guy in a black suit. He wanted me to go with him, but…" his voice trailed off and he glanced at his mother again who was oblivious to the conversation taking place around her, staring out the window. "I didn't want to go."
"Reaper," Sam said and I nodded at him.
"How did you get rid of him?" I asked Cole, recalling with a shaky breath how quickly I'd been to losing Dean to a reaper, and how we still didn't know what had returned him to us.
"I didn't," Cole said. "The black smoke did."
"Black smoke?" Dean asked, frowning.
"It was everywhere," Cold said, nodding. "I hid in the closet, and when I came out, it was gone, and so was he." Dean leaned forward on the table, taking this all in.
"Do you know where the black smoke went?" He asked.
"No," Cole answered. "But I know where it is."
Suddenly the lights around us started flickering and a blast of cool wind hit us square in the face. A white, human-shaped wispy figure cut through the room almost so quickly we didn't see it, running up the stairs.
"Another reaper," I said, starting for the stairs.
"Hey! Hey! Wait! We need to talk to you!" Dean called out, following me.
We reached the foot of the stairs and suddenly a pretty woman with straight black hair and bright eyes descended with a smile.
"Dean," she said simply, and I glanced over at my husband while he frowned, taking a step back.
"Do I know you?" He asked.
She smiled, nodding slowly. "We go way back."
Leading us into the kitchen, her urgent rush seemingly forgotten, the woman turned to face us.
"You don't remember me?" She asked, looking directly at Dean.
Dean smirked and shook his head. "Honestly, if I had a nickel for every time I heard a girl say that…" he said, and I elbowed him in the ribs softly with a playful frown. Dean cleared his throat uncomfortably, tossing me a little smile. "You're uh… you're gonna have to freshen my memory."
The woman stepped forward and grabbed Dean by either side of his head, pulling him down into a kiss. Dean muffled a cry of surprise as she kissed him.
"Hey!" I said in protest, reaching for her, but the woman held out a hand to me, her index finger in the air. And after a couple of moments longer, she pulled back, looking at Dean who was frowning, looking back down at her.
"Tessa," he said, much to my surprise.
"That's one of my names, yeah," she said with a nod.
"Do, you do know her?" I asked, coming around to Dean's side.
Dean nodded, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me into him. "From the hospital after the accident," he said.
"The accident after Dad?" Sam asked and Dean nodded.
"So, this is the reaper that came after you?" I said quietly, feeling an unreasonable amount of fear settle into my gut. Would she come for Dean again? Was it a done deal that Dean was safe from Hell, or was it a deal that stood as long as she couldn't track him down? I reasoned that it was the latter, but there was still that underlying fear that maybe I'd lose him again.
"Yeah," Dean replied quietly, watching me carefully.
"Well," Tessa said, turning to Sam. "This was fun. Now if you'll excuse me…" She started to leave and Dean stepped to the side, cutting her off.
"Wait, wait, wait, wait, you can't – you can't take the kid," he said.
"Why?" She asked.
"Demons are in town, that's why. They've already snatched your reaper pal. The kid knows where," Dean said.
"So?"
"So, you should shag ass. For all we know, they could try and snatch you too," Sam said.
"Except that this town is off the rails," Tessa said, pausing to watch as Cole's mother walked back into the room, picking up something off the table, tying her hair up, and then leaving again. "And someone has to set it straight."
"Yeah, we understand that," Dean said. "But these are special circumstances."
"What? Your whole angel-demon dance-off?" Tessa asked skeptically. "I could care less. I just want to do my job."
"Right, yeah, and look, we want to help you do your job," Sam cut in. "So if you would just bail town…"
"No," Tessa cut in obstinately.
"Well, then, could you hold off until we fix this? Please?" Dean asked to which the reaper sighed.
"All right, but just so we're clear, when I start reaping again, I'm starting with the kid," she said in clear tones.
"Understood," I said with a nod, turning toward the stairs. "I'll find him."
"Wait, wait, wait, wait," Dean said, grabbing my arm before I could leave. "What…what are you gonna say to him?
I sighed sadly at him, because we both knew the answer to that. "Whatever I have to," I said quietly.
Upstairs, Cole's room seemed empty. But I'd seen Sam do this occasionally, when things got really hard. I moved in front of the closet, the only place he could be hiding, and sat down against the wall, turning toward the door.
"This all must be pretty overwhelming, huh? Pretty scary, too," I started, struggling to find the words.
"The worst is my mom," Cole said with a sniffle.
"Must be hard seeing her like this," I said with a nod. Cole leaned forward a little and I could just make out his face through the crack in the closet doors.
"She's always coming in here, talking to me, telling me how sad she is. I knock some stuff over to let her know I'm here, but… she only gets sadder."
I chuckled, picturing the facial expression of Mrs Griffiths as we'd come upon her. "Well, you might want to ease up on the flying soccer balls…" I said softly.
"I'm not telling you where the smoke is," Cole said suddenly. I bit my lip, thinking of the different options I had to coerce the information needed out of this kid.
"Hey. What is I told you that if you helped me, you wouldn't have to leave here? Ever?" I asked, feeling the guilt sink deep into my gut.
"What about the one downstairs?" Cole asked.
"Tessa?" I questioned. "Oh, she wouldn't bother you. No reaper would. You could just stay here with your family for as long as you wanted."
"You can do that?" He queried.
"Yeah, you bet I can do that," I said, licking my lips.
"You swear?"
I only hesitated for a moment, just a heartbeat. It would have been enough for Dean, but this kid didn't know me. Instead, I smiled my most confident smile at him and nodded.
"I swear."
Motel Room
Pamela's POV
They'd been gone a while, and it felt strange just sitting in this room listening to the three heroes breathing calmly and rhythmically as they went about whatever ghostly business they were into. I had no idea why I was allowing myself to be roped back into this again, but at the end of the day it was just hard to say 'no'. Admittedly, the phone call from Cole to push the issue had played a big part. She'd have been here helping herself, as she was stubbornly like to do whether she had all the skills needed or not, but was already tied up elsewhere. Which left me. Once again I had to shake my head at the Singers for getting me mixed up with this crew, they meant well, but it really hadn't lent itself to my personal wellbeing and fortune.
Sighing I stood up and started to pace up and down between the beds. I'd already been here hours, and it wasn't looking like it was going to be over anytime soon. What I wouldn't do for a greasy burger and some fries…
Kitchen
Dean's POV
I stood watching this woman as if I should know her. I did know her, vaguely. It was all a bit of a blur to be honest. My memories from the car crash and the time when I was technically in a coma and dying were sketchy at best. I could really only recall what Beth and Sam had told me they'd witnessed on their side of the veil.
"I'll tell you, life is funny," Tessa said suddenly, looking at me with her arms crossed.
"What do you mean?"
"You and me, together again," she said, glancing over at Sam who was peering out the kitchen window into the street.
"Are you – are you making a move on me?" I asked, raising my eyebrow as Sam snorted. Tessa smiled and shook her head.
"You're the one that got away, Dean. You'd be surprised how little that happens to me."
I glanced over at Sam, and then took her by the arm, pulling her out into the hallway, ignoring the frown that my little brother tossed me. "Can I tell you something between you and me?" I asked, as she tugged on her arm a little, looking at me curiously.
"Who am I gonna tell?" She asked, to which I nodded a reply.
"After our little, uh, experience… for that whole year, I felt like this…hole in my gut… like I was missing something. I didn't know what. Do you know what it was?" I said as she watched me, not saying a word.
"It was you. The pain of losing my father and Sammy. I just… I wish I had gone with you for good," I said, knowing even as I said it how much I didn't feel that now. "But I guess things are different now."
"What? The angels on your shoulder?" Tessa scoffed.
"So, you know about that, huh?" And she nodded. "Well, hey, don't get me wrong. I mean, most the ones I've met are dicks with wings, I don't have quite the reverence for them that Beth does. But still… you know, I've done things. Horrible things. And someone upstairs still decided to give me a second chance. It just makes me feel… I don't know…"
"Uh-huh," Tessa said noncommittally, her eyes turning toward the stairs behind me. I twisted around to see Beth walking down the stairs, Cole behind her.
"Hey, guys," Beth said with a smile and I couldn't help but smile back at her, my other reason for living.
"Hey, Cole," Tessa said. "I'm Tessa. I'm not going to hurt you."
"It's okay, Cole," Beth said reassuringly to the boy. "Just tell them what you told me."
Cole hesitated, glancing around the room at all four of us, as Sam entered behind Tessa.
"I saw the black smoke at my funeral," he said. Beth glanced down at me, exchanging a worried glance.
"At the cemetery?" I asked.
"At the funeral home. It was everywhere," Cole said. Suddenly the lights started to flicker and we all looked around in consternation.
"You doing that?" I asked Tessa and she shook her head, mouthing the word 'No' at me. That was our only warning as the doors burst open, black smoke pouring through the entrance and down the hall, it was everywhere, filling the house. Just as quickly as it came, was it gone, and so was Tessa.
"Tessa!" I yelled, as soon as the room cleared and I saw she was missing.
"Cole, are you okay?" Beth asked, reaching out for the child.
"Well, how the hell are we supposed to fight that?" I asked, feeling panic settle into my stomach.
"I don't know," Sam said with a shrug. "Learn some ghost moves?"
"By tonight? Yeah, sure. I'll meet you back at Mr. Miyagi's," I said mockingly.
"Who's Mr Miyagi?" Cole asked, and I wasn't sure what was more horrifying. What was this world coming to that a kid didn't understand a classic reference?
Front Porch
Beth's POV
You wouldn't think getting a miniature windmill to move would be so hard, and yet here we were, all staring at this tiny porch decoration and straining our guts out, trying to pull a Ghost moment.
Dean was currently boring a new hole thought the windmill by sheer force of will, and achieving nothing.
"It's not gonna move if you don't concentrate," Cole said with a roll of his eyes.
"I am concentrating," Dean replied with a sigh. Sam raised his eyebrow and Dean let out a breath, glaring up at our little brother. Suddenly the windmill turned a quarter.
"Ah, here we go, baby," Dean said triumphantly. The windmill stopped and Cole looked at Dean.
"You pull a muscle?" Cole asked with a smirk and Dean rolled his eyes.
"All right, Yoda, let's see what you got," he challenged.
Cole looked at the windmill and within seconds it started spinning so quickly that it never looked like it was going to stop. After a moment the porch swing started moving back and forth, and the wind chimes hanging from the beams started to sound. I laughed, Dean's facial expression too precious for words.
"Dude! You are so Amityville!" Dean said with delight, to which Cole grinned.
"This isn't even the good stuff," he replied.
Short While Later
Cole's hit to Sam's stomach didn't appear to be much, but it sent out little brother doubling over in pain.
"See?" Cole asked, looking back at us. "If you want to hit something, you just got to get mad." Sam straightened up and looked at the kid, expelling a shallow breath.
"Yeah, got it," he wheezed in reply.
Turning to Dean, Cole issued a challenge: "No you try. Hit me."
"Uh, I think I'll stick to just picking on somebody my own size," Dean said, gesturing to Sam. Cole lashed out with a hit to Dean's face in response, getting a laugh out of Sam. Rubbing his face, Dean frowned at him.
Cole stood in front of Sam and bristled. "Hit me as hard as you can."
"Dude, I'm not gonna do Fight Club with a twelve-year-old," Sam said with a shake of his head.
Cole took a swing at Sam, but this time it was pretty obvious it was coming. I cut in between this child and my little brother, blocking the punch with my hand.
"I can," I said with a smile, and with a shove I pushed Cole back half way across the room. He looked surprised at me and then grinned, lunging toward me with a couple of punches. I ducked, blocking them easily and then feinting to the left, tripping him up on the ground. As he hit the ground, Cole was suddenly gone, and I looked up in surprise, watching as Cole reappeared out of reach behind Sam.
"Whoa!" Dean said with surprise. "Whoa, you got to teach us that!"
Later That Night
The funeral home, when we reached it, was glowing with blue diagrams, figures that I didn't recognise at all, some were in squares and circles, most of them in hexagons. We stood outside the home, watching as people passed by, completely oblivious to both our presence and that of the blue symbols.
"This looks like New Jack City." Dean said. "Can nobody see this?"
"Maybe it's demon invisible ink. Only see it in the veil," Sam commented and I had to agree.
"Any idea what it's for?" Dean asked.
"Nope," I said, taking a step toward the home. "But I guess we'll find out."
There was a door standing open to the funeral home and I was feeling particularly confident, so I stepped through it without much thought for any danger. Sam and Dean followed closely behind, Sam taking one way around the stairs that came down into the foyer, while Dean and I took the other. Turning around and stepping into one of the viewing rooms, I gasped at the scene laid before us.
There was a square drawn out on the floor in the middle of the room, triangles on each corner forming an eight-pointed star. Lying in the centre was Tessa and another old man in a suit, and I assumed this was the first reaper that went missing. We moved closer for a better look.
"Dude, check me out," Dean whispered suddenly, and with a few steps he put our newly acquired skills to use and vanished, reappearing behind a man who was standing guard over the reapers. Dean tapped him on the shoulder, and when the man turned, threw a hard punch to his nose. The man reacted quickly, standing up and taking a swing at what had to be thin air to him, but by the time he got out his punch, Dean was gone.
Sam was next, taking his lead from Dean, and tapping the man on the shoulder and punching him when he turned. The two boys tag teamed the unprepared man, taking it in turns to both punch and then Sam kneed him in the chest. Scrambling away, the man hid behind a coffin on the dais nearby while Dean and Sam stalked him.
"You know, this ghost thing, it's, it's kind of rad," Dean commented with a smile.
Suddenly another man appeared from behind a curtain, carrying a chain and making pained noises. The man Dean and Sam had been following scrambled away while our newest opponent pulled his chain tight and hooked it to a candle stand.
"That's iron!" I warned them, but I was too late. The man holding the chain suddenly had smoke pouring from his hands. Demon. And as the boys reacted, the chain moved as if having a life of its own, surrounding them and pinning them together. Another demon entered the room and suddenly I felt myself fragment, like a mirror that had just been smashed into tiny bits.
Dean's POV
"Beth!" I watched as the new demon pumped a shotgun and fired a round of rocksalt directly at Beth as we were surrounded by iron chain. The demon turned to face us, eyes glazing over white, and I instantly knew who it was.
"Rock salt's not so much fun anymore, is it?" He asked as Beth reappeared gasping on the floor nearby.
"Alastair, you bastard," I cursed.
"Well, go on. Why don't you try some of your mojo on me now, hotshot?" He asked, then cocked the gun and fired at me. I shattered, and moments later reformed next to Sam, still caught in the chains and groaning.
"It's hard to get it up when you're not wearing your meat, huh?" Alastair smirked.
"Go to Hell!" Sam snarled.
"Ah, if only I could," Alastair said in his nearly acquired body and whiney voice, turning away and crossing the room. "But they just keep sending me back up to this arctic craphole."
"To kill death?" I asked.
"No, to kill death, twice. It takes two to break a seal. I figured another one would show up, though. They're like lemmings," Alastair said, he hauled Beth to her feet and pushed her into us, taking a spare piece of chain and linking it around us so all three of us were now trapped, her more in front of me. Alastair pumped the shotgun, this time firing at Sam who disintegrated.
"By the way, it's, uh, good to see you again, Dean," he said.
"You can shoot us all you want, but you can't kill us," I spat out between breaths as Sam reappeared next to me, still caught in the chain which seemed to be holding our souls in place.
"Ah, that so?" Alastair asked with a smug look.
Motel Room
Pamela's POV
I was startled out of my meditation by the sound of a board creaking. Seated back on the chair between the beds I wondered for a very brief moment if perhaps the Winchesters had come out of the ritual early and unsummoned, but a quick feel through my senses told me otherwise. There was definitely something about though, and it didn't feel good. Standing, I walked over to the door, throwing the bolt and then sliding the chain across. It really wouldn't do much against some of the things I knew were out there, but somehow it made me feel just slightly better.
Funeral Home
Dean's POV
I looked nervously at Beth, who was leaning back against me, eyes on Alastair; something about that statement did not sound promising.
"Anywho…." Alastair said with a shrug, dismissing the question he'd just posed. He started to turn a scythe over and over in his hands. "Moon's in the right spot. The board is set. Let's get started, shall we?"
"You're gonna kill a reaper with that? It's little on the nose, don't you think?" I challenged, trying to goad him into buying us some more time.
"Is it?" Alastair questioned with a raised eyebrow. "An old friend lent it to me. You know, he doesn't really ride a pale horse? But he does have three amigos."
The demon walked over to the reapers, still trapped within the symbols on the floor. "And they're just jonesing for the apocalypse," Alastair finished, kneeling beside the old man. "It pays to have friends in low places."
Grabbing the reaper by the collar, Alastair hauled him up. "Don't you think?" Alastair goaded. He drew the scythe across the reaper's neck and started to speak a language I didn't recognise.
"Hic cruor messorius, illud sigillum, quod luciferem reverendum obstringit, aperiat ut resurgat!"
Pulling the scythe hard, there was a flash of blue-white light, and the reaper slumped forward, Alastair catching him and then lowering him to the floor.
Alastair stepped over to Tessa, grabbing her by the shoulder and hoisting her up, holding the scythe to her neck. She startled awake and panicked at the scythe put to her neck.
"Stop!" She cried out. I felt Beth squeezing my hand and followed her eyes up to a chandelier hanging over the top of them. She looked at Sam who was watching us, and they exchanged a slight nod, turning, we all started to concentrate on the iron device hanging above the demon, it was our only hope now.
Motel Room
Pamela's POV
Next stop was the window that had been left open. What had we been thinking? We really should have salted all the entrances. I shut the window and turned back toward the middle of the room and then toward the bathroom. "I know you're here!" I called out, I could feel it, something was wrong. "What's the matter, you reeking son of a bitch? You afraid of a skirt?"
I continued to goad as I moved into the bathroom, ripping the shower curtain aside. Nothing but an empty bathtub, my senses informed me. I turned back to the main room, stepping over the bathroom threshold. As soon as I did I knew I'd made a mistake. It had been waiting for me. I only had one chance.
Before the demon could grab me, I ran for the bed nearest me, the one I knew contained Sam. "Vis, vis, vis!" I said urgently into his ear, speaking the words to release him from the spell. Hands grabbed me around the legs, dragging me back off the bed. I kicked him away but this time he got a better hold of my ankle and hauled me backwards.
"Son of a bitch!"
Funeral Home
Dean's POV
"—illud sigillum, quod luciferem reverendum obstringit— ," Alastair was still chanting as we concentrated on the chandelier. It was starting to shake with a force and I could see Tessa watching us carefully, prepared to act as soon as our plan went into action.
"—aperiat ut—," Alastair continued. "—resurgat!" Just as he finished the chandelier fell, landing on the corner of the reaper trap and breaking it. Tessa vanished instantly from Alastair's grasp, reappearing next to us and unhooking the chains that bound us.
"Bye-bye," I smirked to Alastair as we all vanished into thin air.
On the outside of the funeral parlour we regrouped, taking a breath.
"Where's your brother?" Tessa asked, noticing first that Sam was missing.
"We'll find him," I said, "you get out of here."
Motel Room
Pamela's POV
I was so close to getting Sam up, I just had a few more words. This spurred me on as I blindly fought the demon that was so much stronger than me. I twisted free of its grasp and threw myself toward Sam, whispering the final words into his ear. "Animum vult decipi, ergo…"
The wind was suddenly knocked out of me as the demon threw me across the room. I hit the wall hard, knocking over the candles and what sounded to me like a coffeemaker. Struggling to a sitting position I tried to get my bearings, all I could hear was the breathing of the demon in the room, and then he was over me. Searing pain shot through my stomach as silver sliced through my skin. I knew without a doubt this time it was it. I had been too slow to wake up sam.
"Pamela!" Sam's voice cried out as the demon pulled the knife out of my gut. I heard the demon hit the wall, and then psychically watched through my other senses as Sam stood, furious and full of rage, over the demon. I saw him extend his hand out and pull through sheer force of will the demon from the body of its host. The demon was sent into the ground, presumably exorcised as the host slumped to the floor.
The irony of the situation suddenly hit me and I started to laugh hysterically. Sam knelt beside me.
"What's so funny?" He asked.
"I can't die – not in this town," I said between short breaths of laughter.
"Pamela…" Sam's voice was full of concern.
"Quit your worrying, Grumpy," I said. "How about you make me a drink, huh?"
"You need a doctor," Sam insisted.
"Make me a drink, Sam," I ordered. We both knew how this was going to end.
Alley
Beth's POV
We hadn't found Sam, and had no idea where to start looking really.
"You can't run," Alastair's new voice sounded, and we saw him standing just a few yards ahead of us in the alley. "Dean."
Dean stopped and stared at Alastair for a moment before grabbing my hand and starting to retreat back the way we had come. I sent out a silent prayer to Castiel as we moved, not knowing whether he would hear or not.
"Not from me. I'm inside that angsty little noggin of yours," Alastair said, starting to follow us as Dean walked me quickly away from the demon.
Suddenly there was a flash of blue-white light at the same time as I felt in my mind the presence of the angels around me. We turned to see Alastair had completely disappeared.
"What the hell?" Dean asked.
"Guess again," Castiel's voice sounded from behind us, and I smiled as we turned to see the man who was becoming more and more familiar to us.
"What just happened?" Dean asked, frowning back at where Alastair had been.
"What just happened?" Cas asked. "You, Beth and Sam just saved a seal. We captured Alastair. Dean, this is a victory."
Dean looked skeptically at the angel. "Well, no thanks to you," he said finally.
"What makes you say that?" Cas asked.
"You were here the whole time?" Dean questioned.
"Enough of it," Cas answered, looking away.
"Well, thanks for your help with the rock salt," Dean said irritably.
"That script on the funeral home – we couldn't penetrate it," Cas explained.
"That was angel-proofing," I said quietly.
"Why do you think I recruited you guys in the first place? I wasn't even sure you would get in there Beth."
"You recruited us?" Dean asked.
"That wasn't your friend Bobby who called, Dean. It wasn't Bobby who told Sam about the seal," he said, and I looked at him, a little surprised.
"That was you?" I asked and Castiel looked a little sheepishly at his feet.
Dean let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. "If you want our help, why the hell didn't you just ask like all the other times?"
"Because whatever I ask, you seem to do the exact opposite," Cas replied, looking at me.
"Seems to me Beth is always following your angel orders, against my better judgment I might add!" Dean snapped, and Cas looked down.
"That's when you're not around," Cas said. "Which is rare."
"Damn right it is!"
"Dean!" I cautioned, shaking my head. "It's done."
Dean clamped his mouth shut and shook his head, finally letting out a long breath.
"So, what now, huh? The people in this town, they just gonna start dying again?" Dean asked finally.
"Yes," Cas replied.
"These are good people. What, you think you can make a few exceptions?"
"To everything there is a season," Cas answered in his usual cryptic way.
"You made an exception for me," Dean replied. Cas glanced from me to Dean, taking a breath.
"You're different," he said finally.
None of us seemed to know how to answer that as Tessa appeared next to my husband.
"Dean? I could use your help," she said. When we looked back, Castiel was gone.
Cole's House
Beth's POV
The sight of Mrs Griffith looking through a memory book of Cole was heartbreaking to me. It reminded me of the not too distant past where I'd broken all the angels in my angel garden as I tried to come to terms with losing my own child. As she turned each page, I couldn't decide what was worse, the knowledge that I'd never even gotten that… to hold my baby, take a clipping of his hair or a photo… or maybe it would have been worse to have had it for a time and then lost it.
"Hey, Cole," Tessa said as we all appeared behind him. Cole glared at me when he saw me.
"You lied!"
"Cole…" I said, taking a step toward his mother. "Look at her, Cole," I said, coming to stop right beside the couch. Cole's eyesight followed me for a moment, hesitant.
"Do you see how unhappy she is?" I asked.
"That's why I want to stay with her," he whispered.
I shook my head. "As long as she can feel you, she'll be in pain, because she can't let go," I said, tears coming into my eyes as I felt the pain of little Patrick creeping up from behind the wall I had buried him.
"She can't let go, because you can't let go," Tessa said.
Cole shook his head. "Why won't anybody tell me what's on the other side?"
"Maybe nobody wants to ruin the surprise," Tessa said. Dean looked away with a scowl.
"That's not an answer," Cole said angrily.
"She won't answer you, Cole. Reapers never do. But trust me. Staying here is a whole love worse than anything over there," Dean said quietly.
"Why?"
"Because one day, your family will be gone, and there'll be nothing left here for you," Dean replied.
"It's okay to be scared," I said quietly.
"I'm not scared," Cole insisted.
"We're all scared," Dean put in. "That the big secret," he added, looking at me, a sadness behind his eyes. "We're all scared." I walked over, sliding my arm around Dean's waist and leaning in to him, glad that we both seemed to be of the same mindframe so that I didn't fall right through his incorporeal form.
"Are you coming?" Cole asked, looking up at Dean.
"Oh, I'm sure I'll be there sooner than you think," Dean said with a smile. The boy took another look at his mother and then I watched as the fight drained from him completely. He was ready. He opened his arms and walked straight toward Tessa who was now dressed in a flowing white gown. She enveloped him into her embrace and closed her eyes, and as he connected with her, he vanished in a white light. Almost instantly his mother looked up, and she seemed less sad.
Tessa turned to face us.
"Look out for that boy," Dean said with a nod.
"Look out for yourself, Dean," she replied.
"What do you mean?" I asked, frowning.
"I've been around death from the get-go. You know what I see most? Lies. "He's in a better place," "At least they're together now." You all lie to yourselves, because like you said, deep down, you're all scared." She glanced at me, almost looking uncomfortable. "Stop lying to yourself, Dean."
"What?" Dean asked.
"The angels have something good in store for you? A second chance? Really? 'Cause I'm pretty sure, deep down, you know something nasty's coming down the road. Trust your instincts Dean. There's no such thing as miracles," she said.
"What are you saying?" I asked, startling next to Dean. But there was no answer: Tessa was completely and irrevocably gone, leaving us to look at each other with more questions now than ever.
Motel Room
Beth's POV
"Vis, Vis, Vis…" I heard Pamela's voice calling me out of the spirit world and suddenly everything felt heavy, like I weighed a tonne. I moved slightly, feeling Dean take a deep breath underneath me as he started to stir in my arms. When I opened my eyes, Sam was helping Pamela on to the bed he'd been on.
"Hey, we just got to talk to Tessa, that's all," Sam said. "Get her to hold off reaping till we get you better."
"I'm pretty sure she's started up again,' Pamela said, and those words struck cold into my heart. When Sam moved, I saw Pamela pull her hand away from her stomach, and a steady flow of blood started to pour from a wound. I sat up quickly.
"Pamela!" I said, scrambling around Dean and off the bed. Dean was soon following me.
"What happened?" He asked, sitting up.
"Dean, Beth, where's Tessa?" Sam asked.
"She's…" I stopped, she was gone, and we all knew it.
Pamela took off her sunglasses, looking at me as I knelt in front of her while Sam sat on the bed.
"Pamela, I'm so sorry," I said.
"Stop," she said, looking down at me.
"You don't deserve this," Sam added.
"Yeah, I don't. I told you I didn't want anything to do with this. Do me a favour? Tell that bastard Bobby Singer – to go to Hell for ever introducing me to you lot in the first place," she said bitterly, starting to cough.
"Take it easy, Pamela," Dean said. If it's any consolation, you're going to a better place," Dean said.
Pamela turned her blind eyes to Dean and if she could have, I'm pretty sure she would have rolled her eyes.
"You're lying," she said. "But what the hell, right? Everybody's got to go sometime."
She beckoned Sam a little closer and as he leaned forward, I moved back a little, yet I could just barely make out what she said to him.
"I know what you did to that demon, Sam," she said, and I glanced up as Sam's eyes widened. "I can feel what's inside of you. If you think you have good intentions, think again."
She started coughing again, leaning back against the headboard, a trickle of blood coming out of her mouth.
"Pamela?" I asked, sitting up straighter. Her head fell to the side and the woman was clearly gone. "Pamela!" I jumped up, taking her by the shoulders, shaking my head.
"What did she say to you?" Dean asked Sam as I held the woman to me, cradling her head on my shoulder. Sam didn't answer, but I knew. I knew the darkness she was talking about, it had been brewing since Dean went to Hell, and she had just confirmed that it wasn't over, no matter what Sam said.
Author's Notes
Wowee! So, I am still alive! (Obviously) I have just had SO MUCH going on in my life you would not believe. Coupled with I had a really hard time getting into this episode, and I moved and my DVD for this episode got damaged so I couldn't watch it – there may be some inconsistencies with the episode, but I'm going off the transcript and my own memories of the episode. Hope you enjoyed it regardless.
So in the last few months I have been working overtime, moving house, unpacking, dealing with the child, and also getting caught up in a writing group on Reddit. I also have been sick, had a sick kid, and been travelling for work, plus wrecked my car in a collision. So yeah, all round really rough start to the year.
I've also been getting involved in a bit of a budding romance (with a gorgeous man in Denmark! OMG I just don't do ANYTHING easy, do I?) so that's had a fair amount of my attention as well!
I'm hoping to get back into this with a little more zest now. But it will still likely be fortnightly updates, or at least, that's what I'm hoping for. I hope I haven't lost you all as readers, because you know how much I love you all, it's just, as I say, been a very challenging time for me.
I also have to admit to having gone into a bit of a slump after watching the last few episodes of Season 9 and kind of feeling depressed about where I'm going to have to take the story eventually. Do Dean and Beth ever get a break?! Well, you'll find out! I have my thoughts around how to fix all this, of course, a lot of it is going to depend on what the writers do to Season 10, but I have several ways I can go with it, one is likely to be quite dark for both Dean and Beth.
Anyway, hope you're all well, and I have one more canon after this before I'm hoping to get into the original I have planned for Beth!
Song for this chapter is: Broken Inside by Broken Iris – these guys are amazing!
I have to apologise to everyone who has been sending me PMs over the last few months too! I promise I haven't been deliberately ignoring you! I actually changed email addresses, and I forgot to update FanFiction with the new one, so I haven't been getting notifications :( I will be endeavouring to answer them all over the next few days. I always love hearing from you guys 3
I hope you'll still love me enough to leave a review and tell me what you think of this episode, even though I know it's not one of my best. The next one will be better, promise xo