Yeah, I know it's been awhile. Sorry about that. This chapter has been sitting half finsihed on my computer for awhile. I think my muse decided she liked the weather in Florida and stayed there.

Disclaimer: Don't own, just playing, yada yada

Part 7

If it wasn't for bad luck,
I wouldn't have no luck at all

"The big question is," said Vic, raising her head from her hands, "whose window is it on for tonight?"

"I think I know a way to find out," said Sam, trying to keep his voice calm, controlled.

"How? Are you going to check the house of every eight year old girl in town for the symbol? What if you're wrong?" asked Vic, thinly veiled panic in her voice.

"There is something else they all have in common. I'm sorry, but I need to ask you something. You mentioned that your father is dead."

What little color Vic had drained away as she stared at Sam, wide eyed.

"Y-yes."

"And it happened about a year before your sister disappeared, right? On the night of the new moon?" Vic didn't answer, but Bransen did.

"Yes. It was a…car accident. His car was struck by a train. They said it probably stalled on the tracks and he didn't make it out." Something in Bransen's tone set of Sam's warning bells.

"But you don't believe it?"

"No. James was overly cautious. He wouldn't have pulled onto the tracks if a train was anywhere near, and he would have had time to get out of the car otherwise."

"And now it all fits. All of the girls who disappeared had dead or missing fathers. I'd be willing to bet those men who were missing are dead, too. So we have a victim profile…"

"And we can use that information to find the next victim," Bransen finished. "Lucky for us, the class lists for each grade are published on the Board of Ed website. We'll check the third grade list. Second and fourth grade, too, just in case."

"Then we can check those names against the obituaries from last January and December," Sam said as his eyes lit up with faint hope. "We can find where it's going to strike next, and--."

"And what?" interrupted Vic. "Even if you know where it's going to be, you don't know how to keep it from taking the girl."

"No, but we could warn them, get them out of the house somehow until I take care of this thing."

"But how?"

"One thing at a time, kids," said Bransen. "We'll figure something out."

And hour later, after a thorough search of both sites, they had an answer. And it wasn't a good one.

"Three," said Sam, slumping down in his chair with a disgusted look on his face. "Three likely candidates. And no idea which one it will be." He slammed his fist on the arm of the chair. "Damn it!"

"What if it is all three? I mean, all three fathers died at the same time, in the same crash," said Vic, her voice shaking slightly.

The two-car wreck that had claimed the lives of all three men had occurred on the night of the new moon. The cause of the accident was unknown, but it the official theory appeared to be that one of the cars had swerved to avoid a deer and had take out the other car, but the intensity of the crash had caused both cars to flip into a field, and the direction each had been driving could not be determined.

"Then I guess we convince all three families to leave town tonight," said Bransen. "Better safe than sorry."

"I don't even know how I can get one to leave," growled Sam. "What do I tell them? Gas main leak?"

"Won't work here. Besides, they live some distance from each other."

"Great. Maybe we should just set their houses on fire, that will get them out," Sam muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He caught the looks the other two were giving them and explained guiltily, "I was kidding." Bransen chuckled humorlessly.

"I don't think we'll have to resort to serial arson. I know one of the women, Michelle Perkins, very well; she's the daughter of an old friend. She's very likely to listen if I told her that I had evidence something was going to happen to Melanie."

"She knows about your dowsing?" asked Vic, surprised. Sam shot her a curious look. "Dowsing?" Bransen gave him a look that clearly said ask later.

"Not everyone is as adverse to the idea of 'occult' as your mother, Vic. But I'm pretty sure she'll cooperate. I'll talk to her in person."

"Okay, but that still leaves two more. We're running out of options." He checked his watch. "And time. As far as I can tell, the girls disappeared around midnight. That's when the last victim's mother noticed her missing."

"So we need to get them out of the house soon, before the curfew, and until after midnight. Maybe we could, I don't know, tell them they're needed somewhere immediately. Somewhere that's several hours away where they could drive but it would take them a while to get back."

"Sounds like a good plan, Vic, but…wait, do either of the other two members have out of town family? We could send them off to a hospital somewhere. If they didn't have enough time to find someone to watch the girl, the mother would bring her along."

"I know Erica Wiseman," said Vic. "I baby sit Rachael for her. I think Erica's mother lives about three hours away. I could make sure she can't get a hold of me, and she'd have to take Rachael with her." For the first time since they had arrived, Vic sounded hopeful.

"That leaves Justine and Hannah Butler. What do we tell them?"

"They haven't lived here very long, so I don't know them. I'll see what I can find." Bransen returned to his computer and started searching. Sam got Erica Wiseman's number from Vic and made that call. Mrs. Wiseman's fear was evident, and Sam felt guilty for upsetting the poor woman so much, but consoled himself with the fact that her daughter would now be safe.

"I can't find anything," Bransen said at last. "I'm not sure we'll be able to get them to leave."

"Then I'll just have to wait by their house and hope I can get this thing if it shows up. I'll keep it away from the girl and try to find out what happened to Dean…"

"We should help. We can watch the other places and if it shows--."

"No. It's too dangerous. I'm not risking anyone else to this thing--."

"Are you willing to risk not catching it?" Bransen asked, his tone icy. "You damn fool hunters never admit when you need help. Lucky for you, I'm giving it anyway."

Sam glared at the older man, trying to come up with an argument against the plan, but he had to begrudgingly admit Bransen was right. This plan was way too important to screw up.

Dean's life depended on it.

"So where did you see the creepy old guy?" Lees asked, breaking Dean's train of thought as he tried to decide on the best way to start.

"I got hurt on a job. I was…well, I was dying." There was really no way to sugar-coat this. "My brother, Sammy, he took me too a faith healer, and uh, when the preacher healed me I saw the old man. No one else saw him, and at first I thought it was a spirit."

"A ghost? But there's no such thing as ghosts, is there?"

"Yes, Lees, there are such things as ghosts."

"But how do you know?"

"It kind of my job."

"You're a Ghostbuster?"

"Not exactly. Just trust me on this, OK?" After a moment of silence, Dean continued his narrative. "We found out it was a reaper. You see, the preacher's wife was controlling it, and using it to trade lives of people she hated with people who came to be healed. Reapers normally just take the souls of the dying, though. They're…well, not evil, just a natural part of death." For most people.

"What happens if the reaper doesn't take someone? They just stay alive?"

"I…"

"Well we're still around, and the reaper tried to take us but didn't. That must be it." Krista sounded quite relieved at the idea.

This isn't going like I pictured…

"What keeps a reaper from taking someone?" Bethany asked in a serious tone.

That's a damn good question.

"I guess…something else keeps the reaper away."

"Like what?"

"Like…the person doesn't realize they have to go. Or they need to pass on a message. Or someone won't let them go."

"So you're saying that if someone doesn't go with the reaper, then they're--."

"Bethany! What are you doing?" The sudden interruption caused Dean to jerk in surprise, sending a fresh wave a pain through his body.
"Mia, Dean was telling us—."

"I told you not to get too close."

"But he's OK. He's not going to hurt us--."

"Bethany." A new voice pierced Dean's haze of pain. "You know the rules. All of you, step away." Dean heard a rustle of cloth as the three girls rose and he felt the weight against his arm move away, the loss more painful than he expected. The new arrival spoke again.

"Mia, take the rest to the cathedral and stay there."

"But Emmy--." The three girls chorused in protest.

"Now." Dean recognized that tone. It was one he had used countless times with Sam when they were kids, the "it's for your own good" not too subtly implied. He heard a collective sigh from the girls followed by mutters of protest that soon faded as the group left. Dean waited in silence, but "Emmy" said nothing. The silence stretched on for several minutes, and Dean might have thought she had left as well if it weren't for the creeping, prickly sensation that someone was watching him. His ears strained to detect the faintest sound of movement, as he had heard with the other girls, but there was nothing. He started to wonder if he had imagined the entire thing.

What if this is all just--.

"Why are you here?" The voice, originating mere inches from his face, caused him to jerk back and smack his head against the stone wall behind him. He groaned as the shock of pain struck and he tried to respond.

"What…?"

"You don't belong here. You shouldn't be here. So why are you?"

"I…something dragged me down here. I don't know why."

"From where?"

"A field, near an old burned-down farmhouse."

"The old Dillon farm? I know the place. Why were you there?" Her tone had become harsher as her questions became more focused, and she seemed to be getting closer to him. He thought if he could actually see her they would be practically nose to nose.

"I was, uh, looking for something."

"What?"

"Something that…takes little girls away." Dean paused, on edge, waiting for a reaction.

"The Monster," she finally responded, sounding almost relieved. "I've been looking for it, too."

"You…what?"

"I was waiting, at the Bad Place. That's where it brings us... and leaves us." Her voice had dropped to almost a whisper.

"Wait…you know how you got here? Why don't--?"

"Why don't they remember? Mia does. I couldn't make her forget. But the others don't know. I…we didn't want them to remember. We couldn't let them know what it's like…I couldn't." Her voice suddenly sharpened in anger. "But you almost told them. Why would you do that? They don't need to know!"

Dean felt a sudden drop in temperature. Oh crap. He strained to keep his voice calm, steady.

"I was just trying to help--."

"How would that help them?"

"So they could…move on. They're stuck here, Emmy. It's not fair to them to keep them here. I thought if they knew what had happened, then they could leave. I was just trying to help them. That's all, I promise."

"You can't help. They can't leave." Her voice still held an edge of anger.

"Because you won't let them?" The statement slipped out before he could stop himself. Great, I've done it now. Dean waited for a greater manifestation of Emmy's anger, but instead he heard a squeak of surprise.

"You think I'm keeping them here?"

"I--."

"But I'm not. When…when they were left here, and that…reaper you were talking about showed up, I tried to get them to go. I had seen him, too, when I…but I couldn't go with him, either. I wanted to. I didn't want to stay, but he couldn't reach me. And then with Mia, I saw him again. I told her to go with him, but she couldn't either. All of them, before they…went to sleep, they saw him. I told them to follow him, but they stayed here. It's not my fault, I swear!"

"OK, OK, calm down. Please. I'm not blaming you, I just…alright. Something else is keeping you all here--."

"The Monster," Emmy offered, her voice slightly calmer.

"The Monster. What can you tell me about it? If I know more, I can help you. All of you," he said, sincerely hoping he was speaking the truth.

"I never really saw it. I just know it comes to the Bad Place. That's why I was waiting there. I was hoping if I could see it before…another one of us was left, then I could do something. I should go back. It might show up while I'm gone. I should--."

"Emmy! This is very important. Anything you remember? Anything at all?"

"I…I have the others' memories."

"What?"

"When I didn't want the others, well, all except Mia, to remember, I guess I took the memories from them. I don't really know how, but I did."

"Can you tell me what they remember?"

"No. I can't talk about it. I'm sorry…but…"

"But what?"

"I think I can show you."

"How?"

"When I took the memories from the others, it was like I was pulling the thoughts out of their heads. I think I might be able to do it in reverse. Then I can show you what they saw."

Kind of like what Andy did to me so I could find Sam. God, I hope it doesn't hurt that much.

Dean quietly braced himself. "All right, then. Show me." Suddenly he felt a cold hand on his forehead, followed by a wave of agony unlike any he had ever felt before, and the darkness gave way to a bright searing light.

A/N: chapter title is from Born Under a Bad Sign, by King Albert (the original blues song)