Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid
The Impala pulled up to a diner in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. They'd been trying to get a hold of Bobby to see if he'd looked into all the omens popping up in town, but they'd gotten nowhere. Not even Michelle seemed able to reach him, which they were starting to get a little concerned about.
Sam, Dean, and Michelle stepped out of the car, dressed in their suits as they headed towards the diner to meet with a witness to the supernatural and hopefully, in Dean's case, snag a quick brunch.
"Bobby, listen, when you get this message, call!" Sam nearly shouted into his cell as they approached the diner, "Ok?"
He hung up with a sigh as Michelle looked over, "Is he still not home?"
"How far can he get in that chair?" Dean asked as they entered, looking around for their witness.
"So what do we do?" Sam shook his head.
Michelle nudged Dean in the side and nodded over at a man sitting in the back booth. The boys looked over, "Well, I guess we just do this ourselves," Dean replied as they headed over.
~8~
"Thank you," Mr. Wells, their witness, said to a waitress as she poured him a cup of coffee before walking off.
"Mr. Wells, why don't you just tell us what you saw?" Michelle began, "In your own words."
"Call me Digger," he smiled at her, shooting her a wink as Sam barely managed to refrain from glaring.
"Digger?" Dean raised an eyebrow, glancing at them as Wells nodded, "Who gave you that name?"
"I did," Wells answered, confused as to what that had to do with the case.
"You gave yourself your own nickname? You can't do that."
"Who died and made you queen?"
"Ok, uh, why don't you just tell us what you saw?" Sam cut in, trying to get back to the point.
Digger sighed, "I saw Clay Thompson climb into Benny Sutton's trailer through the window, couple minutes later, Clay walked out and Benny's dead."
"And uh…" Dean pulled out a printout of a license and held it up for Digger to see, "Is this the guy you saw?"
"Well he was all covered with mud but yeah. It's Clay."
"You are aware that Clay Thompson died five years ago?" Michelle asked, just to be sure.
"Yup."
"And you're positive that it was this guy?" Dean tried again.
"You calling me a liar?" Digger glared at him.
"No," Sam called in quickly, "No, no, of course not. Look, can you think of any reason why Clay Thompson, alive or dead, would want to kill Benny Sutton?"
Digger laughed, "Hell yeah. Well five years ago Benny was the one that killed Clay in the first place."
"Is that a fact…" Dean nodded slowly.
"Yeah, so-called hunting accident," Digger scoffed, "But if you ask me, Clay came back from the grave to get a little payback."
"Go on…"
Digger's attention, however, was drawn away from them and now frowning at a woman who had just entered the diner…a woman now headed in their direction, "Heads up. Fargo."
The trio looked up as a brunette woman in a sheriff's uniform arrived at their table, "Digger," she greeted.
"Sheriff," he replied, not very pleased that she was there.
"Gentlemen, ma'am," she turned to face them, "I'm Sheriff Jodie Mills. I don't believe we've had the pleasure."
"Agents Dorfman, Needlemeyer, and Kroger," Dean introduced as they pulled out their IDs, "FBI."
The sheriff's eye widened at that, "Welcome to Sioux Falls. Can I ask you what you're doing with Digger here?"
"Oh they're doing their job," Digger answered, smiling up at her smugly, "They believe me. Sheriff."
She shot them an incredulous look, "The FBI believes a dead man committed murder?"
"We're just asking a few questions sheriff, that's all," Michelle evaded answering.
The sheriff started to nod, seeming to believe her, when Dean just had to speak as well.
"If the dead man didn't commit the murder…then who did?"
Both Sam and Michelle made a face at Dean's question as the sheriff just looked suspicious.
"What'd you say your jurisdiction here was again?" the sheriff frowned.
"Our jurisdiction is wherever the United States government sends us," Dean replied, smirking.
Michelle was inches away from duct taping his mouth shut.
"How about me and your supervisor have a little chat about that?" she smirked back, pulling out her cell phone as Sam handed her a card.
They sat there as the sheriff turned her back, someone answering on the other end, "Agent Willis? This is sheriff Jodie Mills…" she trailed, frowning, "Bobby?" their eyes widened as the sheriff looked back at them, "Is this Bobby Singer?" Sam and Dean exchanged looks as the sheriff grew more stone-faced, "Bull crap," she said, flipping her phone closed and walking up to them, "FBI huh?"
They were so screwed.
"So uh…" Sam took his card back, trying to laugh off the situation, "You know Bobby Singer?"
"That is a fun coincidence," Dean smiled.
"Here's what I know about Bobby Singer," the sheriff cut in, not smiling in the slightest, "He's a menace around here. Ass full of drunken disorderliness and mail fraud, you understanding me?"
"I think we all can agree that you've made yourself perfectly clear," Michelle cut in, trying to diffuse the situation without getting them all arrested, which she was almost certain would happen if Dean opened his mouth once more.
The sheriff nodded, "So whatever it is the three of you are planning, it ends here. Now. 10-4 on that agents?" she gave them a hard look before leaving.
They tried laughing but it was rather tense, each of them at a loss for what to do.
~8~
They hightailed it to Bobby's house, wanting to know quite a few things. Where he'd been, how the sheriff knew him, why she thought he was the town drunk, among other things.
Bobby wheeled through the house after letting them in, the three of them following behind him. Michelle however was a bit thoughtful. Bobby looked different, his hair was combed back, slicked back neatly, his clothes were cleaned and appeared to be ironed, the house smelled…clean! And she could have sworn she smelled something baking.
"Do you know how many times we called?" Dean asked, not seeming to have noticed what Michelle had, "Where have you been?"
Bobby wheeled around to face them, "Playing murder ball."
"What is that smell?" Dean looked around, confused. Michelle was slightly impressed, perhaps he had noticed something, "Is that soap? Did you clean?"
Bobby gave him an incredulous look, "What are you, my mother? Bite me."
"Bobby, seriously…" Sam cut in, being the slightly less angry of the two brothers.
Bobby sighed, "I've been working. You know, trying to find a away to stop the devil."
"Find anything?" Dean asked, suddenly calmer.
"What do you think?" Bobby retorted before glancing over at Michelle to see her watching him, her arms crossed, "What?"
"What aren't you telling us Bobby?" she asked.
"What?" he repeated, his eyebrows raised.
"I know you're hiding something."
He just shook his head, rolling his eyes, "So now I'm the case?"
"Bobby it's just…" Michelle frowned, trying to think of a way to explain their reactions without offending the man , "There's a case less than five miles from your house…"
"What the Benny Sutton thing?" he frowned, his eyes widening, "That's what this is about?"
"You knew about this?" Dean demanded, now less calm.
"Hell yeah. I checked into it already. There's nothing here."
"Except a witness who saw a dead guy commit a murder," Sam replied.
"What witness?" he scoffed, "Digger Wells?"
"Yeah."
"So?" Dean frowned, confused.
"So he's a drunk," Bobby rolled his eyes.
"What about the lightning storms?" Michelle asked, "They look like omens."
He shook his head gently at her, "Except in February, in South Dakota, in storm season," he laughed a little, "Guys, I thought it was something too. Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar."
"So who killed the guy?" Sam frowned.
"Take your pick," Bobby shrugged, "This Benny Sutton guy was a grade-A son of a bitch. There's a list of the living a year long wouldn't mind putting a cap in his ass."
"So you're telling us nothing?" Dean asked slowly.
Bobby just shrugged again, "Sorry. Looks like you wasted a tank of gas on this one."
"Great," Dean let out a frustrated breath.
~8~
That night Dean pulled up along side St. Anthony's Cemetery in town and shut the car off. Sam looked at him for a moment, then outside, and then back.
"What's up?" he asked his brother.
"Isn't that the graveyard back there?" Michelle asked, squinting through the dark at the sign.
Sam glanced back as well, "Yeah," he looked over at Dean, "So what? Bobby already said he checked it out."
"And?" Dean shook his head, "What? Bobby's never wrong? Come on, let's take a peek and then we'll hit the road."
Sam eyed his brother a moment.
"I'm game," Michelle called, moving to get out of the car. There was just something about the whole situation that didn't sit right with her.
Sam sighed and got out of the car, following his brother and Michelle through the graveyard. Their flashlights were the only light around, examining the tombstones for Clay Thompson's grave. Dean whistled as they walked, till they found what they were looking for.
"Hey," Sam called, shining his light on the stone.
Dean moved his light to the ground, looking browner than green, "That look fresh to you?"
Sam frowned, "Yeah, actually."
"Well," Michelle called, tossing them each a shovel, "Let's get to work."
They started digging, making quick work of the grave. Sam finished up this time as Michelle and Dean stood above him, holding their lights down on him. He pulled open the coffin to see it was empty.
"What is going on here?" Sam breathed, eyeing the empty box with wide eyes.
"I don't know," Dean shook his head, "But something stinks."
"And it's not the soap," Michelle quipped, nudging Dean.
~8~
After a quick look at the notes they'd made for the case and a check into the phone book, the trio made their way to the Thompson residence. Sam quickly got the front door unlocked and they headed in, their flashlights out. They looked around at the room, normal furniture, pictures everywhere, very neat and well taken care of. They glanced at each other and, with a nod, split up. Dean took the living room, looking at a desk with an address book open, while Michelle took the dining room and Sam neared the kitchen.
There was a sound of something smashing, when Michelle and Sam ran back to the living room to see Dean ducking under a baseball bat that a pale man had swung at him. He grabbed the bat and punched the guy in the stomach, sending him to the floor. Sam aimed his light on the pale man while Michelle whipped out her gun and kept it focused on him.
The man looked up, seeing there were more of them, and held up an arm in surrender, "Don't shoot me please! There's…there's money in the safe..."
"We don't want your money," Dean told him.
The man looked confused a moment, "What do you want? Anything, please?"
"You're Clay Thompson right?" Sam asked, nodding at Michelle to lower her gun.
"Who are you?" Clay looked between them.
Michelle frowned, he was very, very pale, almost zombie-like…but he wasn't exhibiting any typical behavior of one.
"Uh, FBI," Sam answered as Clay stood.
"FBI?" he frowned, before his eyes widened in realization, "Oh my God, this is about Benny."
"What about Benny?" Michelle asked, eyeing him.
"He killed me. He shot me in the back. I'm supposed to let him get away with that?"
Dean blinked, "Hold on…are you confessing?"
"Yes," he nodded, "I'll go with you, just don't wake my kids."
Sam glanced at Dean and Michelle a moment before turning back to Clay, "And you'll go with us where?"
"Jail."
"Let me get this straight, you're Clay Thompson and you died five years ago?" Dean began.
"Yes."
"And three days ago you climbed out of your grave and killed Benny Sutton?" Michelle continued.
"Yes."
"So you are, in fact, a dead guy," Dean finished.
"Yes!" he shouted exasperatedly, "I…I don't know what I am."
"Clay!" a voice called, they looked over to see a blonde woman in a robe enter the room, "I called 911."
"It's ok," Clay shook his head at her, "Honey, these three are the FBI. They're here about Benny."
"Why don't you come with us Mr. Thompson," Michelle lowered her gun, "I think that'd be best."
Clay nodded and headed outside, him in the lead, the three of them behind him. Dean quietly pulled out his gun.
"Dean!" Sam hissed.
"He's a monster!" Dean argued.
"He's a soccer dad."
"What do you want to do with him?" Dean glared at his brother, but, before Sam could answer, lights flashed on directly into their eyes.
"Freeze!" someone shouted. They looked over to see the sheriff step into sight and held their hands up in surrender as she had her gun trained on them, her partner holding up the light, "Drop your guns!"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, ok," Dean called, putting his gun down along with Michelle, "Alright hey. Remember the guy you said was dead and couldn't possibly commit murder?" the sheriff put her gun away as her partner lowered his light, "There he is!" he pointed at Clay, smug.
"And?" the sheriff asked, not reacting at all to the dead man standing on the sidewalk.
"And?" Dean repeated, stunned, "And you're welcome. For catching the undead killer zombie."
"Whatever he is or isn't, that don't give you the right to shoot him in the middle of the street," the sheriff countered, walking over to them and handcuffing Dean while her partner worked on Michelle and Sam.
"Shoot me?!" Clay gaped, surprised.
"You're free to go Mr. Thompson," the sheriff called.
"Free to go?!" Dean shouted, equally as surprised as Clay sounded.
"I can't believe you were gonna kill me!" Clay glared as he stepped up to them.
"You're a zombie," Dean told him.
"I'm a tax payer!" he countered before heading back inside as the sheriff and her partner led them over to the cop cars.
~8~
In the sheriff's department that night, Sam, Dean, and Michelle were locked away in the holding cell. Dean was sitting on the cot while Sam leaned against the wall and Michelle stood by the bars, watching people through them.
"So what?" Dean asked, "Sheriff's on the take?"
"Yeah," Sam sighed, "No, the zombies are paying her off?"
"Guys," Michelle interrupted their ridiculous theories. They turned to see her looking at Bobby, sitting there, talking to the sheriff quietly.
"So what, now they're friends?" Dean remarked.
He and Sam exchanged looks before turning back to see Bobby and the sheriff now looking at them.
~8~
They were walking through the sheriff's department, Bobby having somehow gotten them out with just barely a warning. Sam was wheeling Bobby as Dean and Michelle walked on either side of him.
"Bobby, I thought the sheriff hated you?" Sam asked quietly.
"She did until five days ago," he told them.
"What happened five days ago?" Michelle asked.
"The dead started rising all over town."
"So you knew about this?" Sam frowned.
"Yup."
"I knew you were hiding something," Michelle muttered.
"I think what Sam and Michelle meant to say is you lied to us?" Dean said, cross.
Bobby wheeled himself away from Sam to turn and face them, "Look, I told you there was nothing here. And there isn't. Not for you."
They were silent a moment as a cop walked past them, "There are zombies here," Dean reminded him.
"There's zombies and then there's ZOMBIES," Bobby tried to explain, but only succeeded in confusing them, "Come with me," he said before wheeling off.
~8~
They arrived back at Bobby's house, following behind him as he wheeled in, tossing his hat on the table by the door.
"You want to tell us what the hell…" Dean began, when they stopped short, seeing a blonde woman in a yellow dress and white apron setting the table in the dining rom. She looked up, startled to see them standing in her doorway.
"Oh hey!" she greeted, smiling, "I didn't realize you were bringing company," she added, more to Bobby.
"It's 4am babe," Bobby wheeled forward, "You didn't need to cook."
"Oh please, I'll get some more plates," she replied, heading back to the kitchen.
"Who is that?" Dean demanded.
"Karen," Bobby replied, "My wife."
"Your new wife?" Dean tried, hoping Bobby wouldn't say what they were all fearing he would.
"My dead wife," he sighed.
~8~
Dean was stuffing his face with pie as he and Sam and Michelle sat at Bobby's dining room table, each with a small plate with a slice of pie on it as well. Bobby was sitting at the head, with Dean on his left and Sam and Michelle on his right.
"Mmm," Dean remarked, chewing the pie, daylight streaming through the window. Michelle just watched him eat, still trying to figure out how Dean had managed to eat so many slices of pie without bursting, he'd been going all night, "This is incredible Mrs. Singer."
"Thank you Dean," Karen smiled at him, pleased.
Sam gave him a meaningful look and cleared his throat.
"What?" Dean defended, "It is."
"That's great Karen, thanks," Bobby smiled at her as she gave him another slice as well, "Could you uh, just give us a minute?"
Karen smiled and headed back to the kitchen, all of them smiling after her till she closed the door a crack and turned away. Dean and Sam shoved their food away, Michelle just placing her fork on her plate before they turned to Bobby.
"Are you crazy?!" Dean glared at him, "What the hell?"
"Dean, I can explain…" Bobby began.
"Explain what? Lying to us? Or the 'American Girl' zombie making cupcakes in your kitchen!"
"First of all, that's my wife," Bobby warned him sternly, "So watch it."
"Bobby whatever that thing is in there, it is not your wife," Michelle reminded him gently.
"And how do you know that?" Bobby turned to her.
"Are you serious?" Sam's eyebrows rose.
"You think I'm an idiot? My dead wife shows up on my doorstep I'm not gonna test her every way I ever learned?"
"So what is it?" Dean asked, "Zombies? Remnants?"
"Hell if I can tell. She's got no scars, no wounds, no reaction to salt, silver, holy water…"
"Bobby she crawled out of her coffin…"
"No, she didn't. I cremated her," the trio was a bit shocked at that, "Somehow, some way, she's back."
"That's impossible," Sam breathed.
"Tell me about it."
Michelle frowned, "You buried her ashes?"
"Yeah."
"Where?"
"Cemetery. That's where they all rose from."
"How many?" Dean tried remaining calm as he discussed a possible zombie army on the rise.
"Fifteen, twenty, I made a list…" he pulled out a paper from his pocket and handed it over to Sam for him and Michelle to look at, "There's uh, Karen, Clay, Sheriff Mills, her little boy came back…"
They each nodded, now understanding why the sheriff had been nonplused by the whole walking dead thing.
"And there were no signs?" Sam frowned, "No omens?"
"Well there were the lightning storms…" Bobby admitted.
Dean threw his hands up and onto the table, turning to Bobby, now serious, "That's what we said. What else?"
Bobby just sighed and looked over at Michelle, "Revelation 6:8."
"Shit," Michelle breathed.
"What?" Dean looked between the two.
"'And through the fire stood before me a pale horse," she quoted, "And he that sat atop him carried a scythe and I saw since he had risen they too shall rise, and from him and through him.'"
"So what?" Dean shook his head, barely following, "Death is behind this?"
"Death death?" Sam frowned, "Like, grim reaper Death?"
"Oh yeah," Bobby nodded.
Dean rubbed his eyes in frustration, "Awesome. Another Horseman. Must be Thursday."
"Bobby…" Sam looked at him, "Why would Death raise fifteen people in a po-dunk town like Sioux Falls?"
"I don't know," Bobby shook his head.
"You know if Death is behind this, then whatever these things are…" Michelle said quietly, "It's not good."
Bobby looked up at her.
"You know what we have to do here," Dean agreed.
"She doesn't remember anything you know," Bobby said suddenly.
"What do you mean?"
"Being possessed, me killing her. Her coming back…"
"Bobby…" Michelle started.
"Aw now don't 'Bobby' me," he rolled his eyes, "I just…listen ok?" they fell silent, hearing a soft humming coming from the kitchen, "She hums when she cooks. Yeah. She always used to hum when she cooked. Tone deaf as all hell but…I never thought I would hear it again," Sam, Dean, and Michelle exchanged uncomfortable looks as Bobby shook his head out of his thoughts, "Look, just read Revelations..."
"I have," Michelle cut in, "Multiple times, multiple versions."
"Then you know the dead rise during the Apocalypse. There's nothing in there that says that's bad. You know? Maybe that's the one good thing that comes out of this whole bloody mess."
"Bobby…it's the Apocalypse," Michelle reminded him, "There's nothing good about it."
Dean leaned forward, "What would you do if you were us?"
Bobby looked around to see them all looking at him and looked down, "I don't now. I know what you think you gotta do. But I'm begging ya, please…" he looked at them, actual tears in his eyes, "Please, leave her be…"
Michelle flinched as Bobby's voice broke near the end, she sighed, "Fine."
"What?" Dean spun to look at her, shocked.
"Michelle…" Sam began.
Michelle just held up a hand, "For now," she added, "She's fine right now, but she starts to turn Bobby…" she looked at him, "The first sign that they're going bad…"
He nodded, understanding that this was probably the best he could get from any Hunter and praying it wouldn't come to that.
~8~
Sam, Dean, and Michelle sat around a table in Roy's Diner later that day, "So what do you think?" Sam asked.
"There's nothing to think about," Dean replied, "We're not gonna leave Bobby at home with the 'Bride of Frankenstein.'"
"Then what do you want to do?"
"I…agree with Michelle," Dean admitted, "If Karen decides that Bobby's face is a blue point special we make sure we're there to save his ass."
Michelle nodded, "I'll see what else I can find out, you two take care of Bobby."
"I'll go with you," Sam stood up as well, "There's a town full of zombies, you'll need more help than one of us watching one zombie."
Michelle glanced at Dean, who nodded, standing up and tossing a bill on the table for his coffee.
~8~
Dean sat at the table of Bobby's kitchen, eating a slice of pie, as Karen baked a few more. There were at least a dozen already-made pies lining the shelves and tables, on almost every available surface. Karen returned to the room, shutting the kitchen door where Dean could see Bobby asleep in his chair next to the fireplace. She walked over to the counter and began to knead the pie crust.
"I'm gonna go on a limb and guess that you like pie," he said, "You bake all these?"
"Don't know what it is," she shook her head, "Ever since I got back I can't stop baking."
"When do you have time to sleep?"
"I don't. Must be the excitement."
"Or being dead."
Karen stopped a moment, tensing, before wiping her hands on her apron and getting back to kneading the dough, "I know you don't trust me…"
"Why would you say that?" Dean asked sarcastically.
"Come on Dean. That's why you're here isn't it? Keeping an eye on me?" she frowned and turned to face him, "I know who you are. Just like I know Bobby's not the same mild-mannered scrap dealer I married," Dean glanced at the door, "You hunt things," he looked back at her, "I…I'm a thing. I get it."
"So then you know that Sam, Michelle, and I would never let anything happen to Bobby," he told her, "He's like a father to us."
"I understand," she nodded, "And he's lucky to have you looking out for him Dean. But you're not the only one."
"Is that so?" he eyed her closely.
She nodded again and turned back to her crust, "I remember everything, you know," Dean frowned, "How I died. That demon taking over my body. The things it made me do. And Bobby having no choice but to…" she swallowed hard, "Well, you know what he did. I can see it in his eyes when he looks at me. The guilt…" she shook her head, "Weighs on him."
"So why don't you just tell him you remember?"
Karen looked over at him, "I'm gonna go on a limb here and say…you've never been in love?" Dean stared at her, "He's my husband. My job is to bring him peace. Not pain."
Dean looked down at that. It was silent for a moment before he spoke again, "You know…" he twisted his ring on his finger, "Michelle…she uh, she went to Hell. For me. To save me, to get me back to Sam…she didn't tell us. When she got back, we had no idea. We didn't for a while actually."
He looked up to see Karen nodding sadly, understanding passed between them, "And now that you know, are you happy you do?"
He swallowed hard, "Honestly…I would rather I didn't."
"Then you understand why I can't tell Bobby," and with that she turned back to her pie.
~8~
Sam and Michelle checked out the first couple houses on Bobby's list, only to see that there were scenes of happy families, reunited after a tragedy and enjoying their second chances. But around the seventh house, things took a much different turn. According to the list, Mrs. Jones was one of the first people to return, so by that logic she would be the first one to turn as well.
They headed up to the tall, grayish house and knocked on the door twice.
"Mrs. Jones?" Michelle called, but there was no reply.
"Hey," Sam whispered, she looked over at him to see him looking down, there was blood on the doorstep. He looked up at Michelle, who nodded, stepping aside for Sam to shove the door, opening it. They headed inside, Michelle pulling out her gun just to be safe, "Ezra Jones?"
There was a noise, slightly like a cough, coming from the room to their right, they stepped into it. It was a mess, with items hoarded around, but there, on a bed, was a woman, lying there with a blanket half-over her. She was old, with gray hair, bruised, with a cut on her forehead.
"Ezra Jones?" Michelle asked as the woman coughed and motioned for them to come forward. They shared a glance, both could see even from there that the woman seemed to be almost decomposing, milky blue eyes fogged with death, they were hesitant to get closer, but Sam braved a step.
She coughed again and tried to speak.
"What is it?" he asked. She coughed and motioned him forward, "You think you could maybe...tell me from here?" he tried, she just coughed again and motioned, "Yeah, I'm gonna regret this," he muttered to himself. He walked over to her bedside.
"Be careful," Michelle called, her gun still trained on the woman.
He nodded, kneeling at the bedside, grimacing as drool began to leak out of her mouth. She motioned him forward, coughing in his face…when she suddenly shoved him with a screech. He flew onto his back just as a shot rang out. He looked up to see Mrs. Jones fall backwards onto the bed, a bullet in her brain before falling back onto the ground, breathing hard.
"You may want to get up," Michelle called.
He looked over at her to see her nod next to him. He closed his eyes a moment, steeling himself, before turning his head to see Mr. Jones lying beside him, basically eaten.
There was a hand in his face and he saw Michelle leaning over to help him up. He took her hand, pulling himself up. They exchanged a look, both knowing things were just going to get much, much worse.
~8~
Bobby wheeled into his study that night with Sam, Michelle, and Dean following after him.
"Keep your damn voices down, Karen's upstairs," Bobby warned them.
"Oh I'm sorry, we're a little tense right now," Dean replied sarcastically, Sam and Michelle had just informed him of their dealings and checking out the other zombies and he was not happy, "Who's old lady Jones?"
"The first one to come up."
"The first one to go bad," Michelle added.
"Ah, she was always a nutty broad," Bobby tried to wave her off.
"Nutty like how?" Dean countered, "Nutty like the way she ate her husband's stomach? Was that the little nutty she was in life?"
Bobby sighed and half-whispered, "No…"
"Look Bobby," Dean took a breath, "I feel for you, but you have got to acknowledge that you're not exactly seeing this straight."
"Bobby whether you admit it or not, these things are turning," Sam called as Bobby wheeled past them, "We have to stop them. All of them."
Bobby wheeled around to face them, pulling a gun from his side, resting it on his lap as they stared at him, shocked that he was doing this to them, "Time to go."
"What?" Michelle breathed. She had never thought this would happen.
"You heard me," Bobby said, grimacing at the look of betrayal on Michelle's face, "Off my property."
"Or what?" Sam glared, stepping in front of Michelle, "You'll shoot?"
"IF Karen turns. I will handle it MY way."
"This is dangerous," Dean told him.
Bobby just cocked his gun, "I'm not telling you twice," he gripped the gun tightly as the trio stared at him a moment, stunned, before they left.
~8~
Dean pulled the Impala up just outside Bobby's lot. Off his property but still close, and turned it off.
"He's crazy," Dean remarked.
"It's his wife Dean," Sam argued, unconsciously taking Michelle's hand in his own. He couldn't ever imagine having to do what Bobby might have to do to her.
"So he goes 'Full Metal Jacket' on us?" Dean glared, "We're his family Sam!"
"Guys, bigger fish here," Michelle cut in, "Ok? We got a bunch of zombies about to turn this town into a giant chew toy."
"Yeah! And he's alone, in a house, making pie with one of them."
"Alright, so?" Sam shook his head.
"So?" Dean nodded a moment, but was silent. Sam just raised an eyebrow at his brother till he spoke again, "I'm gonna have to go back there and kill her," Sam rolled his eyes, "That's the only thing I can think of."
"If he sees you, you're a dead man," Michelle reminded him.
"Well then," he got out of the car, "I guess I won't let him see me."
"…ok," Sam sighed, "We'll…head to town and rescue everyone. Should be easy."
"Sounds like," Dean shrugged, turning back to talk to them.
"We're gonna need some help though," Michelle frowned in thought. Twenty zombies vs. two Hunters, she did love a challenge but even she knew that they would both need help. Her parents had always told her to pick her battles, at least the ones she had a say in.
"What about the sheriff?"
"Last time I checked the sheriff was pretty pro-zombie," Sam argued.
"You'll just have to convince her."
"How?"
"I don't know, you just gotta."
"I don't think we'll have to do much of anything," Michelle cut in, they turned to see her looking at the list, "Her son was the second one back."
"Great," Sam shook his head.
"We gotta go," Michelle said, nodding a good luck at Dean before she and Sam switched around in the Impala and headed to town.
~8~
Sam and Michelle burst into the sheriff's house, only to see her standing, shocked, as her little boy fed off her husband. Sam reached out and put a hand on her shoulder, startling her, as Michelle aimed the gun at the boy in case he attacked.
"Let's go," he pushed the woman out of the room, Michelle taking up the rear, her gun still raised.
"No!" the sheriff yelled.
"Go!" Michelle shouted as Sam pushed the woman outside.
"My husband!" the sheriff tried to run back in.
"He's dead," Sam told her as Michelle lowered her gun.
The sheriff spun around to face them, "That was not my son!"
"You're right," Michelle nodded, "It wasn't."
"Listen, sheriff, your town is in danger," Sam told her, "People are in danger. And we need to help them now."
She ran a hand through her hair, tears in her eyes.
"Can you do that for us?" Michelle asked softly, seeing the woman shaking her head.
"Can you focus for us sheriff?" Sam tried as well, she looked up, "Sheriff?"
"How do we put them down?" she asked, blinking quickly to hold back her tears.
"Head shot," Michelle answered. It was better and easier to just stab one with a silver stake, not many people could manage such a direct and targeted shot, but anyone, if they got close enough, could stab someone in the heart. But with so many zombies, it was better to shoot from a distance than run into a zombie horde.
She nodded, her voice breaking, as she spoke again, "We're gonna need weapons."
"We can start by rounding up anybody we can find," Sam nodded.
"Where is there a safe place we can take people?" Michelle continued.
The sheriff looked away a moment before whispering, "The jail."
Sam and Michelle exchanged a look, knowing what they had to do now, "Right," Sam said, glancing back at the house, "Just uh…" he pulled out his own gun and cocked it, "Give me a minute."
Michelle nodded as he turned and walked into the house, leaving her and the sheriff standing there stoically, waiting. Michelle could see that the woman had pieced together what was about to happen and put her gun away, walking over to her. She placed her arm around the shaking woman's shoulders, startling her.
There was a gunshot.
The sheriff flinched and Michelle pulled her into a hug as the woman allowed herself a brief moment to cry.
~8~
Sam and Michelle stood in the jail with the sheriff, helping her pull guns out of a storage locker, handing them around to a line of people gathered there with them.
"Alright," Sam sighed, handing out some guns down the line, "If I hand you a gun and you see a dead person, I don't care if it's your friend, neighbor, or your wife, you shoot for the head. It's the only way to survive."
"Uh, you mind telling us who the hell you are?" a man stepped up.
"Friend of Bobby Singer's," Sam replied as Michelle checked the guns heading out, making sure they were fully loaded and ready.
"Town drunk?"
Sam just looked confused a moment, "I uh…I thought he..." he nodded at Digger who was sitting down a few feet away, "Was the town drunk."
"Who told you that?"
"Bobby Singer," Michelle answered, the men looked at her. They watched in slight trepidation as she loaded a shotgun and cocked it, aiming it in their general direction, "And the next one who calls him a drunk will, well…" she shrugged, slipping the gun into a harness on her back and loading another gun, "You can guess."
The men swallowed hard, especially when she spun two guns around her fingers and put them in her leg braces. Sam turned around to face her, sending her a secret smile as she winked at him. He loved it when she intimidated other men, it was something that made him realize why he'd ended up with the women he had been with. Not counting Jess, where he was trying too hard to be normal, all the women he'd been attracted to had been...strong. Madison had been a werewolf, Ruby a very old demon, even Cara, well he'd been influenced by the demon blood at the time, but Dean had thought she had the potential to be the siren...they all had some sort of strength about them. He accepted it, he liked strong women, in this business you needed to be strong to survive, and Michelle was the strongest one he knew, which really explained why he loved her so much.
"Stay sharp," Sam called, taking a gun Michelle held out to him.
She turned to the sheriff, "Sheriff, can you watch the front doors?"
The sheriff just nodded and headed out, very stone-faced.
~8~
Sam and Michelle made a round through the halls of the jail, checking the exits and any means of entry to see if they could spot any zombies, but so far there was nothing. They headed to the main doors, past a few men stationed around. Sam looked out and back at Michelle, who was standing by the sheriff, and shook his head.
"I don't understand," he sighed, "Zombies should be flocking to the largest number of fresh meat, us."
"You said they weren't normal zombies though," the sheriff argued, "Maybe they're different in this too."
"Great zombies that can think," Sam ran a hand through his hair, "They could be anywhere."
Michelle's eyes widened, "Oh…shit…"
"What?" Sam spun to her.
"Not anywhere," she said, giving him a meaningful look.
"Bobby," he breathed, realizing that if the zombies weren't attacking them here, their next best bet was that they'd all gone after Bobby.
"We gotta go," Michelle shouted, running back to gather the men, they would need the numbers.
~8~
The streets were eerily quiet as they headed towards Bobby's, there wasn't even a dog barking anywhere.
"Is this a good or bad thing?" one of the men asked as they all crept behind Michelle and Sam in the lead.
"Is what?" Michelle looked back at them.
"The quiet. It's always bad in the movies…but then…maybe it means there's no zombies?" he sounded hopeful at that last bit.
Michelle just shook her head and turned back. They made it a few more feet, when there was a clang in the distance. They all froze, looking around, there was another clang coming from behind two parked cars. Michelle looked over at Sam, who nodded, aiming his gun, ready, as she slowly made her way over to the cars.
She walked to the back of the second car, stepping around it, only to see there was nothing. She frowned and stood up, looking back over at Sam and shook her head. He lowered his gun, confused, when suddenly one of the few women with them screamed.
Michelle spun around to see a zombie leap out the window of the house behind her and lunge at her.
She quickly raised her hands, trying to cover herself from the rain of glass, when the zombie fell down, dead, mid-lunge. Michelle blinked and looked back at Sam, who had just raised the gun to fire, looking stunned. She turned back to the zombie, no sign of being shot, no bullet wound. She slowly and cautiously approached it, nudging it with her foot but got no response. She walked around it and even dared to touch it…but it didn't react, and zombies, no matter how altered, always went for food when it was there.
"It's dead," she breathed, standing up and walking back to Sam, "I mean, dead, completely, non-zombie."
"But it attacked," Sam shook his head, confused.
"I know."
Sam looked back down at the zombie a moment, before his eyes widened and he turned back to Michelle, "You did it."
"What?" she frowned.
He glanced back at the group before pulling her away, "Your powers," he said quickly, quietly, so only she could hear, "You were able to reverse the effects of War and Famine, why not Death?"
She shook her head, "But I didn't even touch it."
"Maybe you don't need to?" he reasoned, it was literally the only thing that made sense to him, "There were plenty of demons who have thrown us against walls without touching us."
"But my powers don't work that well at a distance."
"Have you tried recently?" he countered, he'd noticed that her powers were getting more powerful lately, "Maybe you're just getting stronger?" she paused, considering that, "Look," he said again, "Let's keep going…if we see another zombie, try doing what you did just now to it…so we can see if it is your powers."
She frowned a moment before nodding.
~8~
A zombie was running, full force, straight at them. The men had tensed and raised their guns, but Sam shouted for them to wait. Michelle looked back at Sam before stepping into the path of the zombie and flexing her fingers out, palms out at the zombie…it fell to the ground mid-run and didn't get up.
Sam and Michelle stared at it, small smiles on their faces as the rest looked on, stunned.
This would come in very handy.
~8~
Realizing that Michelle's powers worked against the zombies they all but ran to Bobby's house, ready to help. They could hear thumps above them and ran up the stairs to see a mob of zombies trying to get into a small closet and could only assume Dean and Bobby had hidden themselves in there. The door broke open and the zombies attacked.
"Get back!" Sam shouted at Dean and Bobby, who ducked to the side as Michelle threw her hands out once more. It took a little longer this time for the zombies to fall. But eventually they did.
Michelle stumbled but remained on her feet as the last zombie fell to the ground.
Dean and Bobby peeked their heads around the corner of the closet doorframe, staring at her in shock. Sam didn't even have his gun out.
"You ok?" Michelle asked them, but they just looked from her to the bodies lying on the ground.
~8~
The next morning, Sam and Michelle were standing before a pile of burning bodies in the cemetery as Dean and the sheriff walked over.
"Well, if there are any zombies left out there, we can't find them," Dean sighed.
They turned to face them, "How are the townspeople?" Michelle asked, she felt a bit bad. On the way to Bobby's the men in their gang had stared at her half-in shock and half-in suspicion. But at least they didn't have to shoot any of their friends.
"Pretty freaked out," the sheriff admitted, "Hell, traumatized. People are calling the papers, far as I can tell, nobody's believed them yet."
Sam nodded, "And you?" she shook her head, "How are you holding up?"
She looked at Sam, still shaking her head, opening her mouth to speak but unable to say.
They just nodded, understanding.
"That everyone?" Dean asked, nodding at the pile.
Sam glanced back at it, "All but one."
~8~
They found Bobby sitting in his yard, watching as a single pyre burned before him.
"Well, I'm thinking maybe I should apologize for losing my head back there," Bobby admitted, not even having to look back to know they were standing there.
"Bobby…" Michelle said, "You don't owe us anything."
"Look, I don't know squat," Dean agreed, "And I don't know much about love but, at least you got to spend five days with her right?"
"Right," Bobby nodded, swallowing hard, "Which makes things…about a thousand times worse. She was the love of my life. How many times do I gotta kill her?"
"You ok Bobby?" Sam asked, taking Michelle's hand.
Bobby just shook his head, "You should know…" he said after a minute, they looked at him, "Karen told me why Death was here."
"What do you mean?" Michelle frowned. She'd had a sneaking suspicion that this whole fiasco was a message of some sort. Those zombies...they were far too easy to stop. She hadn't had to use all that much of her powers, something she was certain the Horsemen knew about by now. The zombies had fallen with such little effort it was almost like they were just there to make a statement, not useful once they'd served their purpose.
"I know why he took a stroll through a cemetery in the sticks of South Dakota. He came for me."
"What do you mean you?" Dean asked.
"Death came for me. He brought Karen back just to send me a message."
"You? Why you?"
"Because I've been helping you, you sons of bitches. I'm one of the reasons you're still saying 'no' to Lucifer Sam."
"So this was like a hit on your life?" Sam frowned.
"I don't know if he wanted to take my life or my spirit," Bobby sighed, "Either way, they wanted me out of the way."
"But you're gonna be alright," Dean cut in, "Right Bobby?"
Bobby just looked up at them and then over at the flames, unable to answer.
"Bobby," Michelle called, kneeling down before him, he looked at her, "You were there for me when I got back from Hell. I'm going to be there for you now. You're not alone."
She reached out and took his hand, holding it as she stood up and stood beside him, watching the pyre. She felt a hand squeeze her own and knew, deep in her heart, that Bobby would be ok.
A/N: I always felt so bad for Bobby in this episode :( Poor him. But next chapter...the boys and Michelle get a glimpse of Heaven, what will they learn? If Michelle knew Jo and Ellen, what about Ash? What will Michelle do to Roy and Walt?
But oh no! This story will be over in 1 week! Next Sunday, if all goes to schedule, will be the last chapter :(