Sometimes it's easy to forget how lucky you are, because at some point you had something different, and a part of you will always want that back. The problem is, when you had that different thing, there was something else that you wanted. Being a ghost paled in comparison to being alive, but Dean sometimes forgot how much better it was than being alone in Heaven – how lucky he was that he got to be with Sam.
The Grand Canyon was cool. Something that they had never had the luxury of enjoying when they were alive. And they even went to some nerdy museum, for Sam of course. Dean would never admit that he enjoyed some of the exhibits, but there was this mummy thing... man, it would have been cool to hunt mummies. Nevertheless, days are long when you have no purpose and nights are even longer when you don't sleep. The boredom alone had them both itching after just a couple short weeks, and they both kept bringing up hunts, just waiting for the other one to say no. Even though they both wanted it, one of them had to say no. There was nothing they could do on a hunt except get themselves into trouble.
"You know what we should do?" Dean said one day. It had been ten months since they were zapped back to Earth as ghosts. Nearly a year of checking out tourist attractions and sitting on beaches. "We should go check on Bobby. See what he's up to."
"You're kidding, right?" Sam quirked an eyebrow at Dean. "Bobby's a hunter. Isn't that exactly what we've been trying to avoid?"
"Come on, Sammy. He wont even know we're there. And if he does, he's not gonna salt and burn our bones. It'll be fine."
"Oh, so you want to spy on him?" Leave it to Sam to find the moral dilemma in every situation.
"No, not spy. It's not like I want to follow him into the bathroom. We can just stop by and see what he's up to."
After a moment Sam shrugged and nodded. "Yeah." He said. "Okay."
Sam wasn't sure about the idea. When they found out that Cas had been spying on them, none of them had been too happy about it. Of course, he was also working with a demon and trying to open Purgatory, in effect releasing tons of new monsters into the world. Still, nobody liked being watched without their knowledge. Maybe this was a little different. They were just going to see what Bobby had been up to. No harm, no foul... right? It didn't matter. Life, or whatever, was like the Tuesday time loop that Gabriel had stuck them in so long ago. The same day over and over and over, and Sam needed something different. They both did.
Bobby's place was basically the same as they remembered it – maybe a few more empty bottles laying around. Bobby was sitting at the desk with an open laptop, and he tensed immediately when Sam and Dean entered the room. The experienced hunter knew something was off, and he quickly reached for the shotgun laying on the table next to him. He checked that it was loaded and then waited.
"I told you this wasn't a good idea, Dean." Sam said. They should have known Bobby would notice the temperature change. Maybe after all this time off, they really were getting rusty.
"Oh calm down, Sam." Dean replied. "As long as we don't start throwing things around the room he's not going to do anything. He can't."
"Not the point. We're making him uncomfortable. Maybe we should go."
"Don't be a baby. He'll be fine. See? He's already calmed down." Sure enough, Bobby was back on the computer, but he kept the shotgun resting on his lap just in case. "Let's see what Bobby's looking at." Dean walked around the desk until he was standing behind Bobby. He raised his eyebrows. "Bobby! I never knew you were into that kinky stuff!"
"Oh, god." Sam groaned. This was a bad idea.
"Relax, Sammy." Dean laughed. "I'm just kidding. He's on the website for the Fargo newspaper. Looks like there's been some reports of missing people."
Okay, so Bobby was researching a hunt. Thank god.
Sam moved around the house reading visible pages of open books and looking over newspaper clippings and photographs that Bobby had saved and tacked to a wall. Dean sat contentedly on the couch with his feet on the coffee table. It seemed that, even though he was still doing nothing, the familiarity of it made him happy.
"Look at this." Sam leaned closer to a newspaper clipping on the wall. The article was about a fire in a hospital that killed twenty-three. The accompanying photo was of a group of people, the caption read 'Onlookers watch as firefighters attempt to put out the fire.', and right in the middle of the group was a familiar face. "It's Acham."
"Bobby's still hunting that son-of-a-bitch?"
"Well sure. He killed us. Bobby's probably taking that kind of personally. And either way, he's not the type of person who gives up on a hunt."
"Well he'd better be careful." Dean frowned. "I don't know if Cas would zap his spirit back to Earth, too."
Bobby started packing things up – guns and salt and iron and a first aid kit and matches. He was getting ready for the hunt he had been researching on the computer, and Dean's eyes followed every move the older hunter made as he shuffled around the house. Sam noticed the look of determination on Dean's face.
"What are you thinking?" Sam asked cautiously.
Dean's face was set, and he replied in a serious tone. "Let's go with him."
This was a bad idea. A bad, bad idea. Coming to Bobby's had been risky enough. They weren't supposed to be around hunters, even old friends like Bobby. They weren't supposed to get in the way. They were supposed to mind their own business and enjoy the rest of eternity together... alone. Okay, so maybe going to Bobby's hadn't ended in fire and brimstone like Sam had worried, but surely going along on a hunt was pushing it. It would be all too easy for Bobby to make a mistake and... and what? Shoot them with rock salt? Even if they could show themselves to Bobby, which they couldn't, the most he could do would be to get them with some salt or iron. Bobby would have to be damn sure he knew what he was doing before he burned their bones. That wasn't something that was going to happen on accident. Still, what if they got in the way? What if Bobby sensed they were there and it distracted him from the real hunt?
"I don't know, Dean..."
"Ah come on, Sam! Hey, maybe we can fight the ghost with our bare hands. I mean, we're both spirits right?" Dean was excited.
"If we can fight the ghost that means it can fight us back."
"Yeah but we could totally take it. Come on, Sammy!"
Sam had to admit the idea was exciting, but he was supposed to say no. That was the drill. When one of them suggested a hunt, the other brought them back to reality. What if they got in the way? What if they couldn't do anything at all? Then again, what if they could fight the ghost? What if they could kill it? They could be hunters again. They could do something. And even if they got there and ended up being completely useless, well hell, at least it was something to do.
"Yeah." Sam said finally.
"Yeah?" Dean looked like a kid on Christmas morning.
"Yeah." Sam repeated. "Lets go with."
They sat in the back of the Impala as Bobby drove. It was strange to be traveling in a car again when they were able to just zap themselves anywhere they wanted to go, but they didn't know where exactly Bobby was headed, and besides, it was the Impala. At first, Dean was surprised to see his old car sitting in front of Bobby's. Then, he was even more surprised when Bobby began loading his equipment into the trunk, but after he got over the shock, he was glad Bobby was using the Impala. And why shouldn't he use it? Dean had said many times, to Sam and Bobby, that if anything ever happened to him they'd better take care of his car. Dean couldn't imagine her spending the rest of her days sitting in a junk yard or used up for parts. He was glad she was still hunting, and who better to take care of her than Bobby, the ex-mechanic turned hunter.
It wasn't a long ride, an hour and a half at most, but it was quiet. Bobby didn't talk – who would he talk to? And he didn't play the radio. They sat in silence for miles. Dean stared out the window and watched as trees whizzed by. If he tried, he could imagine that everything was back to normal. It was good, so good, and Dean felt a bit sad when the car finally came to a stop and the engine died.
"Looks like we're here." Sam said as they both ghosted through the cars doors and went to stand by Bobby.
Bobby pulled out a shotgun loaded with rock salt and an EMF meter.
"Great." Sam complained. "We're gonna make that thing go crazy."
They watched as Bobby turned on the device and it lit up. Bobby's eyes widened and he looked over his shoulder, shotgun ready.
"Lets go inside." Dean said quickly.
The inside of the old brick building wasn't much to look at. It was old and crumbling, with desks and chalkboards in the rooms – the only indication that at one time the building used to be a school. Lately, it was just a place that kids snuck into on a dare and never came back from. Four high school students had disappeared over the past three months, and all of them were last seen going into the school.
"Is it weird that I'm a ghost but this place still creeps me out?" Dean asked, but Sam ignored him.
Bobby came in moments later and once again the EMF went berserk. He raised the gadget and began carefully and methodically moving around, trying to find where the EMF was the strongest. Sam and Dean followed, careful to stay out of the direct path of the meter. They made it through the first floor, then up the stairs. The second level was clear, another flight of stairs. Once they reached the top of the second set of stairs, Dean immediately noticed a man standing at the opposite end of the hallway. He was tall and thin, with pale skin, jet black hair that he had pulled back into a small pony tail, and a goatee that came to a point.
"Well if he doesn't just scream bad guy..." Dean paused when he realized that Bobby hadn't taken notice of the man, and was slowly making his way down the hall toward him. "Uh, you see that guy, right Sam?"
"Yeah." Sam answered quickly. "But I don't think Bobby does."
In one swift motion the tall-evil-ghost-man was standing directly in front of Bobby. The EMF meter went nuts, but before Bobby could do anything, ghost-man pushed hard against Bobby's chest and Bobby fell backwards to the ground with an oomph.
"We gotta learn how to do that." Dean said before rushing to Bobby's side and looking ghost-man straight in his face. "Hey!" He shouted. "I know you can see me. Why not come over here and fight me like a man – er, ghost. Whatever." Dean raised his fists and lowered himself into a fighting stance.
Ghost-man smiled and knocked Dean away with one mighty swing of his arm. Dean retaliated with a hard punch to the stomach and almost cheered when his fist made contact. He looked to Sam with a triumphant grin and Sam exhaled sharply in surprise. Ghost-man came back for another attack, but this time Sam was there to help, and together they were an even match for the more experienced ghost. On the ground, Bobby had his shotgun aimed at the empty space where ghost-man should have been. He scrambled to his feet and blinked in confusion when nothing more came after him. Suddenly ghost-man flickered, and Dean saw Bobby's eyes widen. He can see him, Dean raised the shotgun. Dean looked back to ghost-man and froze when he saw that Sam was in between Bobby and the target. Bobby squeezed one eye shut as he aimed.
"Sam, look out!" Dean shouted a warning, but it was too late. The rock salt round pierced through Sam, then through ghost-man, before hitting the wall. Dean watched in horror as Sam flickered and then disappeared, ghost-man along with him.
It wasn't painful. Okay, the initial shot hurt, and the disappearing thing was unpleasant, but then there was just nothingness. No senses at all. Sam could still think, he was still conscious, but there was no light, no sound, no sense of time. Sam had absolutely no idea how long he had been there, in the nothingness. It didn't feel like minutes or days or years, he was just there. But then a tingling sensation started in his toes and fingertips. It reminded Sam of the pins and needles feeling you get when your foot falls asleep. The feeling moved into his feet and hands, then his arms and legs. As it made it's way closer to his torso, it intensified from a small buzzing to an almost electric shock. It soon filled him, and then it became painful. His whole body shook, and just when Sam thought he would explode from the intensity of it, it stopped. He opened his eyes gasping, and there was Dean and Bobby and a second later the ghost reappeared. Bobby had lowered the rifle, but he was still scanning the room as though he expected to be attacked at any moment, and Dean was still standing a few feet away with his mouth hanging open. It couldn't have been more than ten seconds that Sam was gone.
"Sam, you okay?" Dean asked.
"I never want to do that again."
Dean nodded. As strange as it sounded, this wasn't their first experience being ghosts. Once, a psychic named Pamela had temporarily sent them to the spirit world to figure out what had happened to the Reapers in a town where nobody died. They had both been hit with the rock salt then, and Sam didn't need to remind Dean how uncomfortable the disappearing/reappearing act was, or how unnerving it was to be stuck in the nothingness, and to have no idea how long you'd been there, or how long you were staying.
Maybe the ghost realized he was outnumbered, or maybe it was his first time getting into it with a hunter, because he was suddenly gone again. Sam couldn't guess where he could have disappeared to – after all, spirits were supposed to be tied to the place they haunted – but he definitely wasn't with them on the third floor.
"We should leave." Sam nodded to Bobby who was once again holding out the EMF meter as he made his way slowly down the hall. "Maybe if we go, that thing will shut off and Bobby can get out of here."
Dean agreed and they were instantly outside. It had started raining since they entered the school, and Dean flicked his wrists like he was trying to shake off water. "Oh man." He complained, and then he was in the back seat of the Impala. Sam joined him a second later.
"So we can fight ghosts." Sam said with a tilt of his head.
"Awesome." Dean agreed.
A few minutes later, Bobby came out of the school shaking his head.
"I bet we ruined his day." Dean nodded toward Bobby as he tossed his equipment back in the trunk and climbed in the car with a scowl on his face.
Sure enough, Bobby was obviously grumpy, and when his phone rang on the way home he answered it and snapped at the person on the other end. "No. I didn't get it... I don't know... I don't know... It knocked me down, I shot it with rock salt and then it was gone... yeah I know rock salt doesn't kill ghosts... you think I'm an idjit?... yeah, I'll figure it out."
They rode back with Bobby just for the sake of riding in a car. Sam couldn't decide if going to Bobby's had been a good or bad idea. On one hand, it was exciting. And they discovered that they could, in fact, interact with other ghosts. On the other hand, they had kind of ruined the hunt for Bobby. It was just a minor set back, Sam was confident that Bobby would get the job done, but what if more kids wandered into the building in the mean time and were killed? They couldn't allow that to happen.
"We need to go back." Sam said suddenly, and Dean turned from the window to give him a questioning look.
"Back where?"
"To the school. We need to make sure no more kids are killed before Bobby finishes the job."
Dean looked at Sam like he was crazy. "And how are we going to do that? I don't know if you've noticed, Sam, but we don't have any of the cool ghost powers. We can't move things. People can't see us."
"Maybe not, but the ghost can see us. If anyone wanders in there, maybe we can distract him."
Dean lowered his eyebrows and looked to his lap as he considered the plan. "Sounds good." He said at last, and then they were back at the school.
