A/N

So the last chapter was kind of short, but this one pretty much makes up for it- I had a sudden burst of motivation and decided to crank this out while it lasted (It may or may not be two in the morning- shh!).

Thank you to everyone who has favorited and followed the story so far- I'm so happy that you are enjoying it, and I hope that you continue to do so as the story goes on. Comments? Suggestions? Don't be afraid to leave a review or message me- I'm always happy to hear from you guys :)

Okay, enough talk from me- I hope you like this chapter!

We arrived at Jerry's office and knocked on the door. We could hear shuffling inside, and after a minute, Jerry opened the door. He looked horrible- his tie had been loosened at some point and now hung crooked around his neck, his face was splotchy, and his eyes were dull. I quickly stepped forward and wrapped him up in a hug, which he gratefully returned before pulling away and wiping at his nose.

"I just can't believe he's gone…" he trailed off, before shaking himself and standing up a little straighter. "You guys should take a look at this."

We followed him over to the table with the microscope, and he turned it on before gesturing to us to take a look. I stepped forward and sat down, and pushed my hair out of my face before leaning forward to look through the eyepiece.

"Sulfur?" I asked, turning to look at Jerry, who nodded in response before telling us that it had been found at the site of the crash. Dean sighed and crossed his arms against his chest.

"Well that's great," he said sarcastically before he spoke again in a more serious tone. "All right, that's two plane crashes involving Chuck Lambert. This demon sounds like it was after him."

"With all due respect to Chuck, if that's the case, that would be the good news," Sam chimed in, looking at me somberly.

"And the bad news?" I questioned, leaning forward to rest my elbows on my thighs. Sam reached up to rub the back of his neck before continuing to speak.

"Chuck's plane went down exactly forty minutes into flight. And get this- so did flight 2485." I looked up from the floor and locked eyes with Dean, and his worried expression mirrored mine. Jerry, however, just looked confused.

"Forty minutes? What does that mean?"

"According to biblical numerology, the number 40 means death. Like Noah's Ark- it rained for 40 days," I answered him, and Dean nodded in agreement and shot me a proud look.

"I went back, and there have been six plane crashes over the last decade that all went down exactly forty minutes in," Sam added, showing us a printout detailing the crashes.

"Any survivors?" Dean questioned, and Sam looked up and shook his head.

"No. Or not until now, at least- not until flight 2485, for some reason," he said, and then it hit me.

"Son of a bitch…" I growled, and Dean turned to look at me in surprise- although whether it was because of my tone or because I had stolen his line, I had no idea. "Remember the EVP on the cockpit voice recorder?" Dean's face lit up in understanding, and he turned to Sam.

"No survivors," he said somberly, and shook his head slowly before he continued. "It's going after all the survivors- it's trying to finish the job." I swore under my breath and shot up from my seat, heading to the door. Dean followed close behind me, and I could hear Sam mutter a quick 'thanks' to Jerry before jogging to catch up with us. We all climbed in the car and Dean tossed me his phone, which I caught with one hand before strapping myself in.

"Sam, what's our first survivor's number?" I asked, and he dug around in his bag for his laptop before flipping it open and rattling off the number. "How are we gonna play this?"

Sam smirked and turned around in his seat so I could see him better before holding up his phone. "Know anything about surveys?"

Fifteen minutes later, we had called all of the survivors except one- Amanda Walker, a flight attendant. I finished up my call in a fake-cheery voice before hanging up and groaning as I slumped back into my seat. Dean looked back at me through the rearview mirror and grinned at me.

"I didn't know it was possible for you to sound that cheery," he quipped. I stuck my tongue out at him, making him laugh.

"Hey, someone's gotta do it, and you would be too busy flirting to get any information," I retorted, and Dean opened his mouth to reply, but quickly shut it, realizing that I had a point. Sam chuckled from the passenger seat, but quickly stopped when he saw the look Dean was giving him.

"Well, that takes care of Blaine Sanderson and Dennis Holloway- they're not flying anytime soon," Sam said, and Dean nodded at him.

"So our only wildcard is the flight attendant," Dean answered, and looked at me for confirmation.

"Yeah. I managed to get ahold of her sister Karen- Amanda's flight leaves indianapolis at 8," I responded, and Dean muttered something about it being just our luck.

"Dean, this is a five-hour drive man, even with you behind the wheel," Sam said, but Dean shook his head and told me to call Amanda's cell phone again.

"I already left her three voicemails- she must have turned her phone off," I said grimly, and tossed Dean's phone onto his lap. He picked it up and glared at it before shoving it into his pocket. Sam slumped back into his chair and sighed.

"God, we'll never make it."

Dean looked at me through the rearview mirror with a sly grin, and I rolled my eyes and made sure my seatbelt was secure. Then I nudged Sam and motioned for him to put his on, which he did immediately- he had learned the hard way if he didn't, he would end up with his face smashed into the dashboard.

"We'll make it."

And with that, Dean stepped on the gas, and we sped down the road.

We ran into the airport and immediately started searching or the departure board. I spotted it first and elbowed Sam, and we jogged up to the board, Sam pulling Dean behind him. After a few seconds, Sam found the flight and pointed to it.

"Right there. They're boarding in thirty minutes," he said, and turned to Dean.

"Okay. We still have some cards to play. We need to find a phone," he said, and spun around to look for one. I spotted a courtesy phone attached to a pole and nudged Dean, who immediately ran over and picked it up.

"Hi. Gate thirteen," he said, glancing up at me and Sam. "I'm trying to contact an Amanda Walker- she's a flight attendant on flight…" he turned to look at us and shrugged.

"424," I said, and he repeated the numbers into the phone. He listened to the person on the other end for a moment before giving us a thumbs-up, and we both let out a sigh of relief. Then Amanda must have answered the phone on the other end, because he straightened up and pointed to the phone.

"Miss Walker. Hi, this is Dr. James Hetfield from St. Francis Memorial Hospital. We have a Karen Walker here," he said, pausing, before continuing with "Nothing serious, just a minor car accident, but she was injured, so-" he froze and looked up at Sam and I with a panicked look on his face. "You what? Uh, well… there must be some mistake," at this point, Dean made what could only be described as an 'oh shit' face, and Sam and I quickly moved closer and leaned in so we could hear what was going on.

"Is this one of Vince's friends?" came through the phone, and Dean looked at us for a moment before smirking.

"Guilty as charged," he said, and shrugged at me and Sam.

"Wow. This is unbelieveable."

"He's….really sorry," Dean said quickly. He looked over to me for help and mouthed 'what do I do?', and I leaned over to whisper in his ear while Amanda said something about Vince needing to mind his own business.

"Look, I talked to him, and he's a mess- he really needs to see you tonight. Give him one more chance?" Dean looked at me and raised an eyebrow, and I nodded in approval.

"Really?" Amanda said, and Dean reached out to give me a quick high-five. Sam rolled his eyes at us, and I stuck my tongue out at him.

"Look, I've got to go. Um… tell him to call me when I land," she said, and Dean looked at us in a panic.

"No, no. Wait, Amanda. Amanda?" he said, just before we heard a click from the other end and the line went dead.

"Damn it!" Dean cursed, and slammed the phone down. "So close!"

"What do we do now?" I asked, and Sam straightened up before responding.

"All right, it's time for Plan B- we're getting on that plane," Sam said, and Dean turned to him, eyes wide with shock.

"Whoa, whoa, now just hold on a second," he said, and I nodded emphatically at Sam.

"Sam, are you sure that's a good idea?" I asked, and Sam crossed his arms in exasperation.

"Guys, that plane is leaving with over a hundred passengers on board, and if we're right, that plane is going to crash," he said, and turned to Dean, who let out a shaky breath.

"Okay, so we're getting on that plane- we need to find that demon and exorcise it. I'll go get the tickets- you and Ella grab whatever you can from the trunk that will make it through security. Meet me back here in five minutes," Sam declared, and was about to walk away when he noticed the look on Dean's face.

"Hey, are you okay?" I asked, and put my hand on Dean's arm. He turned to me, and I could immediately see that he wasn't- he was as white as a ghost.

"No, not really,' he managed to say, and Sam gave him a look of concern.

"What? What's wrong?" he said, and Dean wiped sweat from his forehead, and was about to respond before I interrupted him.

"Dean… are you afraid of flying?" I said, and he turned to look at me before nodding quickly.

"It's never really been an issue until now," he said, and Sam looked at him in surprise.

"You're joking, right?" he said, and I shot him a look. He quickly cleared his throat and sighed, pausing for a moment before continuing to speak.

"All right. Uh, Ella and I will go."

"What?" Dean asked, and Sam sighed again.

"We'll do this one on our own."

"What, are you nuts? You said it yourself, this plane's gonna crash," Dean sputtered, and I squeezed his arm to try to get him to calm down a little bit.

"Dean, we can do it together, or Ella and I can do this one by ourselves," Sam said, and I looked at Dean with concern. He really didn't look good- he was still pretty pale, and I could see his hands start to shake. I had never seen him like this before, and I knew that he was telling the truth.

"Dean, I can stay with you if you want- I'm pretty sure Sam can handle this on his own," I said, and turned to Sam to see if that was okay. He didn't look very happy about it, but he nodded in agreement. He was about to say something, but Dean straightened up and took a deep breath.

"No, I'll go. There's no way I'm letting you and my little brother do this without me," he said, turning to me, and I smiled at him.

"It'll be okay, Dean. Come on, we need to hurry if we're going to make it onto that plane," I said, and Dean and I started jogging to the car to get our stuff. I grabbed my backpack and threw some holy water, duct tape, my iPod, and a book into it, and zipped it up. Once Dean was finished, we closed the trunk and headed back inside to meet Sam. Once we had found him, we headed towards the gate.

Ten minutes later, we had made it onto the plane. I ended up in the middle between Sam and Dean, and I shoved my bag under the seat in front of me before pulling out my iPod and slipping my earbuds in. Sam had already claimed the window seat, and Dean sat on the aisle, still looking nervous as all get out. He pulled the safety card out of the pocket in front of him and started anxiously leafing through it before I noticed what he was doing and snatched it out of his hands, making him jump.

"Trust me, dude- reading that will only make it worse", I said, pulling out the earbud closest to Sam. Dean smiled gratefully at me, and I offered him the earbud. He took it, his hands still shaking slightly, and as he put it in, I found Metallica and picked a song, knowing that would calm him down. He relaxed for a bit, but as soon as the pilot announced that we were ready to take off, he tensed up again and reached for the armrest, holding onto it for dear life. I put my hand on top of his and paused the music so he could hear me better before leaning in to reassure him.

"Dean, it's going to be okay", I said quietly, and he relaxed his hand enough for me to nudge his hand off the armrest and place mine facing up. He wiped his hand on his jeans before taking my hand and managing a weak smile, and then he faced forward as we took off, refusing to look out of the window.

After about fifteen minutes in the air, my iPod decided to die, so Dean was leaning back in his seat and humming a song I had played earlier. Sam gave him a strange look, and leaned closer to me so he could talk to Dean, who was clutching my hand like his life depended on it.

"You're humming Metallica?"

"Calms me down," Dean responded tensely, and Sam shook his head.

"Look, man- I get you're nervous, all right? But you got to stay focused," Sam said, and Dean nodded and took a deep breath, and his grip loosened on my hand. I smiled at him quickly before turning to Sam and speaking so Dean couldn't hear me

"We got thirty-two minutes and counting," I said, trying to hide the worry in my voice and failing, "to find this damn thing- or whoever it's possessing- and perform a full exorcism. What's the plan?"

"Let's take it one step at a time, all right? Now, who is it possessing?" he said. Dean leaned forward and rested his chin on my shoulder, startling me, before he invaded the discussion.

"It's usually gonna be somebody with some sort of weakness- you know, a chink in the armor that the demon can worm through. Somebody with an addiction or some sort of emotional distress," he added, and Sam leaned closer to me so it would be harder to hear us.

"Well, this is Amanda's first flight after the crash- if I were her, I'd be pretty messed up."

Sam said, and I nodded and turned towards the aisle, catching the attention of a flight attendant.

"Excuse me, ma'am- could I have a Diet Coke?" I asked, and Dean turned to look at me in confusion. The attendant smiled at me and nodded before walking away.

"Why the sudden need for a drink?" Dean asked, and I rolled my eyes before answering.

"First of all, if we're going to be taking down a plane-crashing demon, I'm gonna need some caffeine," I said, and Dean contemplated my answer before nodding and waiting for me to continue. "And second, I just found our girl. I was checking the attendant's name tag- not Amanda. And there's only two female flight attendants on this plane… do the math." I nodded towards the back of the plane, and both Sam and Dean spun around to see her standing behind the curtain, checking something on the wall. Dean nodded and moved to get up but I put a hand on his chest and gently pushed him back into his seat.

"Dean, you need to focus on not freaking out- I got this." I stood up, and he looked at me in surprise.

"No holy water?" he asked, and I simply shrugged in response.

"There are easier ways to test if someone's possessed- if she is, she'll flinch at the name of God," I said, and Sam looked at me and nodded.

"You know to say it in Latin, right?" he asked, and I scoffed and leaned my elbow on the top of Dean's seat before answering. The attendant came back with a plastic cup filled with Diet Coke and I took it from her, smiling gratefully before draining most of it in one gulp.

"Yes, Sammy, I know," I said, rolling my eyes at him. "It's Christo."

Sam nodded, and a proud smile spread across his face. "Good. I was just testing you," he said, and I rolled my eyes again before starting towards the back of the plane, carrying my now-empty (except for way too many ice cubes) cup with me.

Once I reached the curtain, I paused for a second and dipped my hand into my cup, flicking water onto my face and chest so I looked like I was sweating. Then I slipped behind the curtain and leaned against the wall, trying to look anxious and scared. It took her a minute to look back at me, and she noticed my 'condition' and turned towards me.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" she asked, handing me a napkin. I patted my face and chest with it and took a deep breath before responding, trying to make my voice sound shaky.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine- I'm just not the biggest fan of flying, and I get claustrophobic easily," I answered, and she smiled at me.

"Happens to the best of us," she said, and turned around, continuing to fuss with the snack cart like she had been doing before I interrupted.

"Yeah, but you're a flight attendant- flying must come easy to you," I said, continuing to wipe the "sweat" off of my face and chest. She laughed quietly before turning back to me.

"You'd be surprised," she said, and smiled, but I could tell that her heart wasn't in it.

"You're not a fan of flying either?" I said, and she shook her head.

"Yeah, maybe- a little bit."

"Do you mind if I ask why?" I said quietly, and smiled warmly at her to make her feel more at ease. She turned away, obviously uneasy.

"Kind of a long story."

I nodded and apologized softly, and she turned back to me and smiled weakly. I could see that she was uneasy, and quickly shifted back to a more comfortable topic.

"Okay, I have to ask you- how do you get your hair to look so smooth?" I said, recalling a conversation I had overheard between two girls at the mall- one of the few times I had gone shopping for new clothes. They babbled on and on about hair products and outfits and jewelry, so much so that by the time I had finished my lunch, I was exhausted. She laughed, and leaned against the wall, seeming much more relaxed.

"Leave-in conditioner," she said, and I nodded.

"Hey, there's this new brand I heard about- it's called Christo Haircare," I said, carefully watching her response before continuing. "Have you heard anything about it?"

She paused and looked at me in confusion. "I'm sorry, what's the brand?"

"Christo Haircare? I read about it somewhere online…" I trailed off, noticing no reaction to the name of God. She shook her head, and I shrugged.

"Never mind, I think i got the name wrong… Anyway, I should get back to my seat- my brother is probably wondering what's taking so long," I said, stretching my hands above my head. She smiled and said it was nice talking to me, and I said the same before turning around and going back to my seat.

I finally reached Sam and Dean, and carefully climbed over Dean- who was now humming something that sounded suspiciously like AC/DC- and flopped down in my seat. Sam looked up from the in-flight magazine he had been reading with an expectant look on his face, and I shook my head. His face fell, and Dean looked over at us in confusion. Sam shook his head at him, and panic flashed across his face before leaning back and resuming his humming. I offered him my hand again and he took it, and I squeezed his hand reassuringly.

"Well, she's pretty well-adjusted for someone who almost died a few days ago," I said, and Sam shook his head. "There's no demon in her, and I don't think one's getting in either."

"So, if it's on the plane, it can be anyone. Anywhere," he responded, leaning back in his seat to stare at the ceiling. The plane started shaking, and Dean shot up in his seat and tightened his grip on my hand. I tried to hide that I was starting to panic as well, and leaned over to put my head on his shoulder. He slung his arm around me and pulled me closer to him like a stuffed animal, and Sam, noticing that I was starting to get worried as well, reached for my other hand, and I took it before burying my head into Dean's shoulder.

"Hey, hey, it's just a little turbulence," Sam said reassuringly, aimed mostly at Dean, who didn't seem reassure at all.

"Sam, this plane is going to crash, okay? So quit treating me like I'm friggin' four," he hissed, and tightened his grip on me. I wiggled a little bit, trying to get some air, and he loosened his grip and smiled at me apologetically, his arm still slung around my shoulder. I smiled back up at him and rested my head on his chest . I could hear how fast his heart was beating, and lifted my head back up so I could look at him.

"Dean, you really need to calm down," I murmured quietly, trying to sound as calming as possible while hiding my own fear. He shook his head emphatically and Sam leaned closer to us.

"Yes, you can," he said, but Dean was having none of it.

"Dude, stow the touchy-feely, self-help yoga crap, it's not helping!" he growled, and Sam looked at me for help. I sighed and put my hand on Dean's face, turning his head so I could look him in the eyes.

"Dean, if you're panicked, you're wide open to demonic possession, so you have to calm yourself down, okay?" He managed to nod slightly, and I leaned my head onto his shoulder to comfort him. He rested his cheek on the top of my head and took a few deep breaths, and I could feel him relaxing slightly.

"Good," Sam said soothingly, before turning back to the book he had on his lap. "Now, I found an exorcism in here that I think is gonna work- the Rituale Romanum."

I sat up and turned to him. "What do we have to do?" I asked, and I could feel Dean nodding behind me.

"It's two parts. The first part expels the demon from the victim's body- it makes it manifest, which actually makes it more powerful" Sam answered, and i instantly tensed up.

"More powerful?" I asked, and could hear the pitch of my voice rising in panic.

Sam looked at me in concern, and I could feel Dean's arm tighten around my shoulder before Sam nodded his head.

"How?" Dean asked, somehow managing to sound calmer than me (although, at this point, it wasn't that hard).

"Well, it doesn't need to possess someone anymore- it can just wreak havoc on its own," Sam answered. I started to reply, but noticing that I sounded like I had inhaled a buttload of helium, I quickly decided against it. Dean looked at me in confusion for a second before he looked back to Sam, who I was now refusing to look at.

"And why is that a good thing?" Dean asked, and noticing how tense I had become, rubbed my arm to try to comfort me.

"Well, because the second part sneds the bastard back to hell once and for all," Sam said, and Dean nodded, satisfied with the outcome.

"First things first, we got to find it," he said, and ruffled my hair before reaching into his bag to pull out his EMF meter. He got up and started walking down the aisle towards the front of the plane, and Sam shifted in his seat like he was going to follow him, but out a hand on my shoulder instead. I jumped slightly and turned to him, and I could see that he was worried about me.

"El, are you okay?" he asked, and I started to nod before I changed my mind and shook my head.

"Sammy… What if we can't stop it?" I asked, trying and failing to keep my voice from shaking. He nodded in understanding before pulling me into a hug. I could feel him kiss the top of my head before he pulled away so he could look me in the eyes.

"Hey, don't worry about it- we won't let that happen," he said quietly, and I managed a weak smile.

"That's better. I'm going to go check on Dean- will you be okay for a few minutes?" he asked, and I nodded slightly. He smiled and stood up from his seat a little too quickly, smacking his head on the air vents. I stifled a laugh, and he smiled at me sheepishly and rubbed the top of his head before climbing over me to get to the aisle. He walked away and I closed my eyes for a few minutes, focusing on my breathing. Sam came back with Dean in tow, and I looked up at them, their faces set in determination. I shot Dean a puzzled look, and he took a deep breath before speaking.

"It's the copilot."

"What the shit?" I hissed, and Sam chuckled at my choice of words before motioning for me to stand up.

"Come on, El- we've got to get to Amanda before the demon does," he said, and I grabbed my bag before following them to the back of the plane.

We headed back as quickly as we could, getting a few strange looks as we walked closer to the open curtain. Amanda heard us coming and turned to look at Sam and Dean in confusion, not noticing me hidden behind them.

"Can I help you?" she asked, and I realized that she couldn't see me. I poked Sam in the side and he spun around to look at me, surprised, and I looked at him pointedly. Realizing the issue, he quickly stepped to the side, and I locked eyes with Amanda, who smiled in recognition.

"Oh, hi. Flight not too bumpy for you, I hope."

"Actually, that's kind of what we need to talk to you about," Dean said, and Sam reached over to close the curtain before turning back to face Amanda, who was starting to look worried.

"Um, okay. What can I do for you?" She asked, focusing mostly on me. I shook my head and sighed before stepping forward and speaking in a low, quick voice.

"This is going to sound insane, but we don't have time to give you the whole speech and everything…" I trailed off, not really knowing what to say. Sam put his hand on my shoulder and stepped forward, and she turned to look at him, confused.

"Look, we know you were on flight 2485," he said carefully, and I could see the remains of her smile disintegrate into horror.

"Who are you guys?" she asked shakily, slowly stepping away from us.

"Trust me, that's the least of your worries right now," I said, and slowly held out my hand to her to keep her from moving away.

"We know something brought down that plane, and it wasn't mechanical failure," Sam said, before Dean interjected.

"We need your help because we need to stop it from happening again. Here. Now," Dean said, looking at her pleadingly. She stammered out an apology and tried to brush past us, but I reached out and gently put my hand on her shoulder, and she spun around to look at me, terror in her eyes.

"We're not going to hurt you, okay? I promise. But you need to listen to us," I pleaded, and although she still looked scared, I felt her relax a little. Once I saw that she wasn't going to try to leave again, I took my hand off her shoulder and gave her a small smile.

"The pilot from 2485, Chuck Lambert? He's dead," Dean chimed in, and she turned to look at him in shock.

"Wait, what? Chuck is dead?" she asked, and Dean nodded at her before continuing

"He died in a plane crash. Now, that's two plane crashes in two months. That doesn't strike you as strange?"

"I-"

"Look, there was something wrong with 2485. Now maybe you sensed it, maybe you didn't. But there's something wrong with this flight, too." Sam interrupted, speaking as calmly as he could.

"Amanda, you have to believe us," Dean said, looking at her imploringly. She paused for a second to collect herself before she looked up at us, eyes wide with understanding.

"On… on 2485, there was this man. He… had these eyes," she said slowly, and I nodded in encouragement.

"They were black, weren't they?" I asked quietly, and she nodded her head, surprised. Then she looked at all of us and stood up a little straighter.

"I don't understand- what are you asking me to do?"

"We really need to talk to the copilot... Do you think you could bring him back here?" I asked carefully, and she looked at me for a second before she responded.

"Why? What does he have to do with anything?"

"There's no time to explain. We just need to talk to him. Okay? Dean asked, and she crossed her arms in frustration.

"How am I supposed to go in the cockpit and get the copilot-"

"Do whatever it takes", Sam interrupted. "Tell him there's something broken back here- whatever will get him out of that cockpit." She scoffed and stepped closer to Sam, unfolding her arms.

"Do you know that I could lose my job if you-"

"Okay, well you're going to lose a lot more if you don't help us out," Dean interrupted sharply, and Amanda hesitated for a second before agreeing, and making her way to the door of the cockpit.

I put my bag on the floor and bent down to dig through it. I tossed the bottle of the holy water to Sam, who deftly caught it, and then passed the duct tape to Dean, who grinned and slid his hand through the roll before handing John's journal to Sam. He quickly flipped to the right page just as the copilot entered, looking slightly annoyed.

"Yeah, what's the problem?" He stepped forward, and I crept up behind him and kicked the back of his knee. He crumpled onto the floor, and Dean leaped at him. He pinned him down and put a strip of duct tape over his mouth while Amanda watched in horror.

"Wait, what are you doing? You said you were just gonna talk to him," she protested, stepping as far away from Dean as she could.

"We are gonna talk to him," Dean smirked, and held out his hands so Sam could toss him the holy water. He caught it and quickly opened the bottle, splashing the contents onto the pilot's skin. It started to sizzle, and Amanda gasped in horror.

"Oh my God! What's wrong with him?"

"Look, we need you calm. We need you outside the curtain," Sam said, and Amanda stuttered in protest before he cut her off. "Don't let anybody in, okay? Can you do that?" he asked, and she froze. "Can you do that? Amanda?" Sam asked again, and she nodded before slipping through the curtain.

"Let's do this thing. Sam?" I looked at him and motioned that he should start the exorcism. He began to chant in Latin, but was interrupted when the demon somehow managed to break free. It hit Sam and Dean and darted towards me. I managed to tackle it and slammed it to the floor, putting all of my weight on its stomach and effectively pinning it down. Sam continued, but not for long- the demon managed to throw me off and rip the duct tape off of its mouth. He then grabbed Sam by the collar before anyone could tackle him again, and got right in his face.

"I know what happened to your girlfriend! She must have died screaming- even now, she's burning!" the demon growled, and Sam froze. Dean pulled the demon off of him and punched it in the face, knocking it to the ground. He pinned the demon down again with help from Sam, but it managed to kick the journal up the aisle.

"I got him," Sam said, gritting his teeth, and I gave the demon a quick kick to the ribs for good measure before it managed to escape the copilot's body and disappear into a vent. I growled in frustration, and the two brothers stopped pinning down the copilot's body.

"Where'd it go?" Sam asked.

"The damn thing is in the plane!" I cursed as Dean let out a few choice swear words.

"Hurry up- we got to finish it," Dean urged, but before Sam could continue, the plane dipped violently, sending all of us flying. I slammed against the wall and got the wind knocked out of me. I started gasping for air but found none, and was sure I was about to die when Dean grabbed me and pulled me towards where he was holding onto the exit door with one hand. He wrapped his arms around me and held onto me for dear life, screaming at the top of his lungs, as the plane continued to dive. Then a bright streak of electricity ran through the whole plane, and the plane started to level out. Once the plane was completely still, I collapsed onto the floor, still trying desperately to draw air into my lungs. Dean steadied himself for a moment before noticing that I had fallen, and quickly dropped onto his knees on the floor next to me.

"Kid, what's going on? Come on, talk to me!" he said, grabbing my shoulders and turning me so he could look me in the eyes. I tried to answer but couldn't- by then I had started sobbing. He swore ad pulled me close to his chest, stroking my hair in an attempt to calm me down.

"Sammy!" Dean yelled, looking around desperately. "We need some help back here!"

Sam burst through the curtain, ready for a fight, but skidded to a halt when he saw us on the floor. He quickly sat down next to us and put a hand on my back.

"Just breathe, El. You're safe now."

After five minutes of us sitting on the floor, Dean still stroking my hair while Sam rubbed my back and spoke to me in a comforting tone, I finally managed to pull myself together. Dean touched my tear-stained cheek to get my attention, and I looked up at him, still trembling.

"You gonna be okay, kid?" he asked, and I managed a shaky smile and a nod. He brushed my hair out of my face and helped me stand up. Once he and Sam saw that I could stand by myself, we walked slowly back to our seats, both of them supporting me with an arm around my waist. Sam slid into his seat before reaching out to help me into mine, and once I had sat down, I fell into him, exhausted and still shaking a little. He put his arm around me and looked down at me with pride.

"We did it, Ella. We did it."

I smiled up at him before resting my head against his chest, and I quickly fell asleep to the steady beat of his heart.

As soon as we arrived back at the airport, we made a beeline for the exit, but were stopped by various paramedics who insisted that we needed to be checked out. Once they saw how tired I looked, they let us go, but not before wrapping a blanket around me, which I gratefully accepted. We reached the door and I turned to look at Sam, who had been oddly quiet since we got off the plane. I reached out to touch his arm, and he turned to look at me, not bothering to hide the pain in his eyes.

"You okay?" I asked softly, and he sighed before responding.

"Ella, it knew about Jessica," he said, shaking his head.

"Sam, these things.. They lie, all right? That's all it was," Dean interjected, and Sam smiled weakly at him before saying "Yeah" and turning to walk out the door. We got in the car and drove towards the airport hangar, where Jerry greeted us warmly.

"Nobody knows what you guys did, but I do- a lot of people could have been killed," he said, shaking the boys' hands and pulling me into a hug. "Your dad's gonna be real proud."

"We'll see you around, Jerry," Sam said, and we turned to walk away. But before we got very far, Dean held out an arm to stop us and turned back towards Jerry, brows knit in confusion.

"You know, Jerry, I meant to ask you- how did you get my cell phone number, anyway? I've only had it for like six months," he asked, and Jerry looked at him before nodding absentmindedly.

"Your dad gave it to me."

"What?" Sam asked, sounding just as shocked as I felt, if not more.

"When did you talk to him?" Dean asked, a hard edge to his voice.

"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."

With that, Jerry turned to leave, leaving the three of us standing there watching his retreating back, speechless. I looked up at Sam and touched his arm, snapping him back to reality, and then did the same to Dean.

"Let's get out of here," I said, and we walked towards the car silently. Once we reached it, Sam and I leaned against the trunk while Dean paced in front of us. He pulled out his phone and dialed a number before walking towards us and putting it on speaker as the message bagan.

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

The message ended, and Dean shoved his phone back in his pocket. We all stood in silence, Dean too stunned to say anything, Sam with his jaw set in anger, and me staring down at my feet. I didn't have the same connection with John that Sam and Dean did- they were his blood, and I was just the girl he found on the side of the road- but he was the reason I was alive. And that he hadn't bothered to call or even keep his phone in service stung. Sam, still fuming, got into the passenger seat. Dean and I followed soon after, and I grabbed my stolen pillow from the floor and curled up in the backseat with the blanket the paramedics had given me. Before long, I was asleep, and we drove off into the day to the strains of music from the car radio.