Disclaimer: Not mine

Chapter 6

Sam grinned as he watched Dean play pool, sipping his beer. They'd been on two further hunts and it was obvious Dean was happy, that made it worth it. He spent a lot of time researching, his magic was…off, since Jess' death. Whatever spell she'd used on him had apparently damaged him. He hadn't noticed before because he had been using potion backed spells or ones he could do in his sleep, like Dean's clothes. Anything needing power though and it would drop him, thoroughly freaking Dean out as Sam bled, passed out, or even seized once. He had to find some way to fix it or they were in trouble. If he was going to kill the demon he needed to be at full power.

His attention went back to Dean and he smirked as Dean brushed off the women he would have flirted with before, even slept with. Did Dean realise he no longer even looked? Dean glanced over at him and Sam smiled so Dean went back to playing.

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Dean woke as he heard the door open, hand slipping under the pillow for a weapon but then he blinked as Sammy's form and released his grip, sitting up sleepily.

"Morning Dean," Sam put down the drinks and pastries and Dean got out of bed, not caring for his nakedness.

He took one of the mugs and inhaled the scent of tea, he never drank coffee anymore, he understood now how unhealthy it was. He took a pastry with a grin for the treat, savouring it. They both froze as Dean's phone rang, he hardly ever remembered it these days, but he picked it up. "Hello?"

"Dean, it's, uh, it's Jerry Panowski. You and your dad helped me out a couple years back."

Dean frowned in confusion before finally remembering. "Oh, right, yeah. Up in Kittanning, Pennsylvania, the poltergeist thing. It's not back is it?"

"No. No. Thank god, no. But it's something else, and... uh, I think it could be a lot worse."

"What is it?"

"Can we talk in person?"

"Hang on," Dean covered the phone and looked at Sammy. "He wants to talk in person. We saved his family form a poltergeist a few years ago. He wouldn't call unless there was a threat." Sam considered it before nodding. "Alright, we're on our way Jerry.

"Thanks."

They hung up and the brothers packed up before hitting the road. Frustratingly, the day they are meant to meet him Dean wakes and awaits orders. Whatever he wanted them for could surely wait one more day. "Dean?" Sam asked once they had eaten lunch.

"Yes Master?" Dean leant against his master's leg, feeling utterly content as gently fingers ran through his hair.

"Does the broken bond still hurt?"

Dean hunched in a little but answered. "Yes Master, sorry Master."

Sam pulled Dean up and into his lap, tipping his face up to see his eyes. "It is not your fault Dean, understand."

"Yes Master," he whispered in awe, it wasn't his fault.

"I wish I could heal you," Sam murmured before kissing him and Dean melted against him, eager to please as always. "Love you,"

"Love Master," Dean answered as they moved to the bed, spending the rest of the day there.

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"Thanks for making the trip so quick. I ought to be doing you guys a favour, not the other way around. Dean and your dad really helped me out," Jerry said as he led them back to his area in the hanger.

"Yeah, he told me. It was a poltergeist?" Sam grinned, and Jerry nodded.

"Poltergeist? Man, I loved that movie," one of his coworkers called and Jerry glared.

"Hey, nobody's talking to you. Keep walking. Damn right it was a poltergeist, practically tore our house apart. Tell you something, if it wasn't for you and your Dad, I probably wouldn't be alive," he grinned at Dean who grinned back, not truly meaning it, not with the mention of John. "Your Dad said you were off at college. Is that right?" Jerry asked Sam.

"Yeah, I was, but I couldn't stay away," Sam shrugged.

"Well, he was really proud of you. I could tell. He talked about you all the time."

"He did?" Well, that was unexpected and shocking to hear. He knew John didn't care about him.

"Yeah, you bet he did. Oh, hey, you know I tried to get a hold of him, but I couldn't. How's he doing, anyway?"

"He's, um, wrapped up in a job right now," Dean offered, sensing Sammy had been thrown a little.

"Well, we're missing the old man, but we get Sam. Even trade, huh?"

"No, not by a long shot," Dean answered, Sammy was a far better trade.

"I got something I want you guys to hear," he opened the office and let them in. "I listened to this. And, well, it sounded like it was up your alley." He put in a CD. "Normally I wouldn't have access to this. It's the cockpit voice recorder for United Britannia flight 2485. It was one of ours."

"Mayday! Mayday! Repeat! This is United Britania 2485—immediate instruction help! United Britanis 2485, I copy your message—May be experiencing some mechanical failure..." There was a loud whooshing sound.

"Took off from here, crashed about two hundred miles south. Now, they're saying mechanical failure. Cabin depressurized somehow. Nobody knows why. Over a hundred people on board. Only seven got out alive. Pilot was one. His name is Chuck Lambert. He's a good friend of mine. Chuck is, uh...well, he's pretty broken up about it. Like it was his fault."

"You don't think it was?" Sam asked, puzzling over the recording.

"No, I don't," Jerry stated firmly.

"Jerry, we're gonna need passenger manifests, um, a list of survivors."

"All right."

"And, uh, any way we can take a look at the wreckage?" Dean asked, curious and a little excited, he hated flying but to see a plane up close would be cool.

"The other stuff is no problem. But the wreckage...fellas, the NTSB has it locked down in an evidence warehouse. No way I've got that kind of clearance."

"No problem," Sam smirked.

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They walked into the building like they belonged, an illusion making it seem like they were in standard government suits and they flashed ID that said Homeland Security when all they were really doing was holding up their wallets. Sam was careful, but illusions were easy, making the guard forget them wasn't much harder as they went in to look at the debris. Dean pulled out an old Walkman he had gotten out of the car and began looking around.

"An EMF meter?" Sam asked, and Dean nodded, grinning proudly.

"Made it myself."

"Good work," Sam praised as they walked around until Dean got a reading and followed it to the exit door where they found a yellow residue. Sam chipped some off and smelt it. "Sulphur." Then they froze as they heard voices, before quickly exiting the building and vaulting the back fence to ensure they were not seen. They headed back to the motel where Sam went to work on the recording while Dean went through their weapons, cleaning them. "Well, there's definitely EVP on the cockpit voice recorder."

"Yeah?" Dean put aside the shotgun he was working on.

"Listen." He played the tape, which had been edited to pull out a scratchy voice.

"No survivors!"

""No survivors"? What's that supposed to mean? There were seven survivors."

"Got me," Sam shrugged.

"So, what are you thinking? A haunted flight?"

"There's a long history of spirits and death omens on planes and ships, like phantom travellers," Sam offered, thinking it over.

"Mm-hmm."

"Or remember flight 401?"

"Right. The one that crashed, the airline salvaged some of its parts, put it in other planes, then the spirit of the pilot and co-pilot haunted those flights."

"Right. Maybe we got a similar deal?"

"Then why are there survivors?" Dean frowned, "they must have been a mistake, which means they might be in danger."

"Guess we need to check them all out then."

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They lay in bed together, finally done speaking with the survivors they could track down. "it's a demon, isn't it?" Dean asked, and Sam nodded.

"Sulphuric residue, inhuman strength…it all adds up," he agreed, still breathing a little heavily, enjoying the weight of Dean's body pressed against his. "And now it's targeting the survivors."

"Poor Jerry, his friend didn't need to die. We gotta stop it."

"We will," Sam promised. It was sad that Chuck had died, another victim, but they would stop it before any of the other survivors died.

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"Really? Well, thank you for taking our survey, and if you do plan to fly, please don't forget your friends at United Britannia Airlines. Thanks," Dean hung up and looked at Sam who was driving. "All right. That takes care of Blaine Sanderson and Dennis Holloway. They're not flying anytime soon."

"So our only wildcard is the flight attendant Amanda Walker?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, her sister Karen said her flight leaves Indianapolis at eight pm. It's her first night back on the job. That sounds like just our luck."

"Dean, this is a five-hour drive," Sam warned, and Dean nodded. "Call Amanda's cellphone again, see if we can't head her off at the pass."

"I already left her three voice messages. She must have turned her cellphone off."

"God, we're never gonna make it."

"We'll make it," Dean stated, they had to make it. Sam drove without stopping for any breaks and they got to the airport only to rush inside and over to the departure board.

"Right there. They're boarding in thirty minutes."

"Okay. We still have some cards to play. We need to find a phone," Dean looked around and found a courtesy phone, picking it up. He had the call put through to the gate to try and catch her.

"This is Amanda Walker."

"Miss Walker. Hi, this is Dr. James Hetfield from St. Francis Memorial Hospital. We have a Karen Walker here."

"Karen?" she asked in alarm

"Nothing serious, just a minor car accident, but she was injured, so—"

"Wa—wait, that's impossible. I just got off the phone with her."

Dean paused, mentally swearing. "You what?"

"Five minutes ago. She's at her house, cramming for a final. Who is this?"

"Uh, well...there must be some mistake."

"And how would you even know I was here? Is this one of Vince's friends?"

"Guilty as charged," Dean grimaced and shrugged at Sam.

"Wow. This is unbelievable."

"He's really sorry."

"Well, you tell him to mind his own business and stay out of my life, okay?"

"Yes, but...he really needs to see you tonight, so—"

"No, I'm sorry. It's too late."

"Don't be like that. Come on. The guy's a mess. Really. It's pathetic."

"Really?"

"Oh, yeah." Maybe he was getting somewhere?

"Look, I've got to go. Um...tell him to call me when I land." And with that she hung up.

"No, no. Wait, Amanda. Amanda! Damn it! So close," he hung up angrily.

"All right, it's time for plan B. We're getting on that plane."

"Whoa, whoa, now just hold on a second," Dean stared at Sammy with wide eyes, he was joking, right?

"Dean, that plane is leaving with over a hundred passengers on board, and if we're right, that plane is gonna crash."

"I know."

"Okay. So, we're getting on the plane, we need to find that demon and exorcise it. I'll get the tickets. You get whatever you can out of the trunk. Whatever that will make it through the security. Meet me back here in five minutes." Dean just stared at him anxiously and Sam could feel his fear. "Are you okay?" he asked more gently.

"No, not really."

"What? What's wrong?" he shifted them into a more secluded area.

"Well, I kind of have this problem with, uh..." he couldn't say it, he was a wimp.

"Flying?" Sam asked, eyes wide, how did he not know that?

"It's never really been an issue until now."

"All right. Uh, I'll go."

"What?" Dean demanded in alarm.

"I'll do this one on my own."

"What are you, nuts? You said it yourself, the plane's gonna crash."

"Dean, we can do it together, or I can do this one by myself. I'm not seeing a third option, here."

"Come on! Really? Man..."

Sam sighed and reached out for the bond, watching the fear and tension leach out of Dean's body as the switch was made from a freer Dean to a slave. "You are not afraid of flying Dean, there is no reason to be scared. We will get on the plane and you will remain calm and focused. Understood?"

"Yes Master," Dean answered, anything to please him. Sam released the bond and Dean blinked dazedly for a second before grinning. "What are we waiting for Sammy, we better hurry and get tickets."

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Dean wandered up and down the aisle of the plane, EMF in his pocket with the headphones in, looking for any sign of the demon. Why had he never been on a plane before? This beat driving for getting somewhere quick. He turned at a tap on his arm and removed an earbud.

"Anything?" Sam asked, he could sense evil on the plane but not exactly where it was.

"No, nothing. How much time we got?"

"Fifteen minutes. Maybe we missed somebody."

"Maybe the thing's just not on the plane?" he offered but Sammy shook his head, so Dean nodded. He looked down as the EMF meter spiked and the co=pilot exited the bathroom and headed towards the cockpit.

"What? What is it?"

"Christo," Dean whispered, and the co-pilot turned slowly to face them, his eyes were black.

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Dean held Amanda back, keeping her safe as Sammy pinned the demon, eyes shimmering gold as he chanted, hand on the demon's forehead. Dean could see the sweat beginning to build and he knew this was going to be bad for Sammy, but he had to learn this spell. The demon writhed under his grip, snarling and yelling so Dean let her go to cover its mouth, not wanting anyone to come investigate. He watched as a drop of blood dripped from Sammy's nose, hoping he could finish it and then the co=-pilot convulsed, once…twice…and his body glowed briefly before he slumped and then Dean was lunging to catch Sammy who collapsed, jerking in Dean's hld as his eyes rolled back. "Easy Sammy, I've got you, just breath through it," he murmured even as Amanda cautiously approached, offering ice water to help cool Sammy down.

"Is he…" she looked at the co-pilot.

"He should be okay," Dean answered as Sammy relaxed, hazel eyes slowly blinking open. "Hey, you did it." Dean smiled, and Sammy smiled back so he helped him sit up.

"Get back to your seats," Amanda told them. "I'll call in a medical emergency, say he collapsed.

"Thanks," Dean answered, helping Sam back to their seats, without looking like he was helping him, they didn't need an extra attention. A minute later the pilots voice came on saying they would be making an emergency landing. They soon landed, and the brothers joined the que to get off, seeing Amanda talking with medical personnel, the co-pilot being loaded onto a gurney. She turned, seeing them, and mouthed 'thank you' before turning back. They left the airport, grateful they had simply returned to the same airport and got in the Impala.

That night Dean waited on Sam hand and foot, obviously very worried about him and Sam let him, knowing what the next morning would bring and he was right as Dean woke and waited for orders.

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"Nobody knows what you guys did, but I do. A lot of people could have been killed," Jerry shook their hands. "Your dad's gonna be really proud."

"We'll see you around, Jerry," Sam offered, feeling better after a day in bed. They went to leave but then Dean paused and turned back, curious.

"You know, Jerry."

"Yeah."

"I meant to ask you, how did you get my cellphone number, anyway? I've only had it for like six months."

"Your dad gave it to me."

"What?" Sam demanded, barely able to hide his alarm.

"When did you talk to him?"

"I mean, I didn't exactly talk to him, but I called his number. His voice message said to give you a call. Thanks again, guys."

They quickly left and walked towards the car. "This doesn't make any sense, man. I called Dad's number like fifty times when he vanished. It was out of service," Dean explained. He pulled his phone out and looked at Sam who nodded so he dialled a number. As the voice message began, he turned it, so Sam could hear too.

"This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son, Dean. 785-555-0179. He can help."

Dean hung up without leaving a message and they got in the car. Neither sure what to do about that at the moment.

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Sam grinned as he got out of the car and Dean looked around, excited but not letting it show.

"You sure?" Dean asked and Sam, took his hand briefly, not like anyone watching would know they were brothers.

"Positive, we have the cash and we deserve a break. I know you wanted to come here when we were kids," Sam assured him, and Dean grinned before walking quickly to the ticket line, making Sam laugh and hurry to catch up. Universal Studios Florida and then maybe even Disneyworld would make a great break and they needed one after dealing with their first demon. Sam still had a mild headache three days later, he needed to find some way to fix whatever had happened to him before they found trouble.

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Dean nodded at Sammy and slipped around to the back, picking the lock easily. He moved inside the house, gun ready as he cleared it room by room, knowing Sammy was doing the same at the front, having disabled the security system. They met at the stairs and headed up where they found the guy sleeping in his bed. They didn't risk getting close, they fired three shots each, killing the hunter in his sleep. Dean watched as Sammy went to check the body, feeling nothing for the man they had just executed, he was a monster and deserved to die. They'd tracked him home from his last 'hunt' where they'd been too late to save his victim, a newly bitten werewolf who hadn't hurt anyone. He wouldn't kill anyone else now. Once Sammy nodded they split up, going through his weapons, supplies and research materials, taking what they wanted before leaving, Sammy cleansing the house of their presence.

TBC…