Season 10, Episode 13. Halt and Catch Fire.
Spencer, Iowa
A young couple sits high in an oversized pickup truck.
"You sure you ok to drive?" the young woman asks, as the pick-up hurtles down a dark, rainy highway.
"Not really," the boy replies. "But there's nothing a little grease can't fix," he smirks nastily.
"Trinie, find me the nearest Taco Town."
"Searching," an iphone holstered on the dashboard replies.
"You know I'm gonna get a quesadilla and a chichimelt," the woman says.
"Turn right in 50 feet," the flat voice of the phone's GPS says.
The car turns right. "Really, I don't think this is the way to Taco Town," the woman says dismissively.
"What do you know?" the man sneers. "The phone's 3G. Trinie doesn't make mistakes."
"Continue for point three miles. Then turn left," the GPS speaks in a flat voice.
"Phhh." The woman sighs. "It's freezing, can you please turn off the air?"
"It's not on." the man says with a puzzled tone.
The car cruises to a stop in front of a closed off bridge. Danger: Bridge Out. "What the hell?" the man mutters.
"Trinie doesn't make mistakes huh?" the woman says wryly.
"Trinie, find a different route," the man says, shifting in his seat uncomfortably.
"Proceed ahead," the flat voice of the GPS speaks.
"Go screw yourself," the man says pointlessly.
"You go screw yourself," the phone replies suddenly, with emotion.
The couple stares at each other.
"Janet, get out of the truck," the phone says. Janet stares at the phone with the whites of her eyes showing.
"Um, how does she know my name?" the woman asks.
"Janet, get out of the truck now!" the phone commands in a hoarse voice.
Breathing hard, Janet unbuckles her seatbelt and leaps out of the pickup. On the driver side, the lock snaps shut as the man takes off his seatbelt and pulls on the door handle. He leans over to crawl to the passenger seat. Suddenly, the door slams. The accelerator moves down and the truck speeds forward.
"Wait, no!" the man inside screams, grabbing at the wheel and slamming on the brakes. The pickup continues to speed ahead.
"Aaaa!" Janet screams as she watches the pickup crash through the Danger: Bridge Out sign. "Billy!"
"Destination ahead," the flat voice of the GPS says.
Bunker:
The teenaged Dean's slim form walks upstairs jauntily, eating a giant bite of chocolate-striped croissant. "Hey, what in the world?" Sam asks, as he walks down the stairs from the entrance of the bunker, staring at Dean's confection.
"A crossookie," Dean says, slipping his hand into Sam's jacket. "What's this?" he stares up at Sam, his hand holding a flask.
"It's for emergencies. It's full. A croussookie?" Sam asks, determined to change the subject.
"Yeah, they're for kids." Dean smirks up at Sam.
"Yeah so what, half cookie, half..."
"Who gives a crap," Dean interrupts rudely. "They're freakin awesome."
"Hah," Sam chuckles.
"What did Cass say?"
"Uh, good news, bad news. Bad news, he discovered riverboat gambling. Good news, he thinks he might be closing in on Cain." Sam sets his bag down on his worktable and leans on the edge of the table. "I picked up the bones. Once the other seller on ebay finally ships us the package..."
Dean springs up and sits on top of his table, "Oh wow, thinks he might be," Dean interrupts again, licking the powdered sugar off his fingers.
Sam nods, returning to the previous topic.
"Yeah, just he thinks in Mississipee or Illinois."
"So, maybe Cass finds Cain in the land of Lincoln, and then what?" Dean asks, bringing a mug up to his lips.
"And then we get him to tell us how to get rid of the mark." Sam explains patiently.
"Don't you think that if Cain knew how to remove the mark, he would have done it?" Dean says quizzically. "Like centuries ago."
"We won't know til we try," Sam replies.
"Sammy, I appreciate the effort. I really do. But trying to find a cure for this is like a dog chasing its tail. There's no way in sight and you just end up busy."
"Dean, where there's a will..."
"There is a case," Dean interrupts again, smirking. "Hmm? Check this out," he says, turning around and showing Sam an article pulled up on his ipad. "Iowa teen claims possessed pickup kills driver. What say we take our own trek to the midwest."
Sam nods, acquiesing.
Spencer, Iowa
The impala pulls into the parking lot of Kasen College. Behind them, a tall building with glass walls and college students walking around. The day is pale, clear, and cold. Sam and Dean get out of the car. Dean is dressed in a hoodie and jeans and Sam is in his fake FBI blue suit, with a light winter coat over the top.
"Sorry I ever made you leave," Dean says as they walk past two happy, chattering students.
Sam snorts and glances down at Dean.
Inside the atrium of a college building, Sam and Dean look oddly out of place. The young woman from before, Janet, walks down the stair with a friend. "Hey, which one of you is Janet Novocellik?" Dean says, walking up to the two young women.
"I am," Janet says.
"Hey, well I'm writing an article for Spencer High Reporter," Dean asks. "You mind, I gotta finish this assignment by Friday. You know how it is," he tosses his head at the woman.
The two girls glance at each other and Janet's friend walks on while Janet stops. "I already talked to the police like 9 times," Janet says, shaking her head.
"Yeah, we'll make it fast." Dean lies smoothly. "This is my dad, Sam."
Sam gives Dean a look.
"We'll make it fast." Sam says. "I promise. I'm helping him with his report since he's struggling a bit with his assignments."
Janet looks resigned.
A study area in a library
"So like I told the detective, I was drunk, but I wasn't hallucinating. The truck had a mind of its own."
"How so?" Dean asks.
"Like, the air went full blast even though it wasn't on and the radio went crazy, and so did Trinie." Janet finishes talking as Deans eyes wander lasciviously over the bodies of the female college students nearby.
"And Trinie is?" Dean asks.
"Heh", Sam laughs. "You'll have to excuse my son. When it comes to technology he's a little slow. We homeschooled and didn't want to let him watch .. inappropriate material."
Dean glares at Sam.
"I, um," Janet fumbles for words. "Trinie is the nav app we're using. It, it's like a talking map."
Dean looks at Janet, "So Trinie and everything else in the truck went all Christine?" Dean asks.
"Who's Christine?" Janet asks, missing the reference to the Stephen King horror novel about possessed cars.
Dean glances at Sam. Sam smirks back.
"It's my dad's thing. He made me read lots of old books," Dean answers with a quirky look at Sam.
"Look, I don't expect you to believe me," Janet answers sharply, "But I swear that truck was hell bent on killing Billy."
"Did Billy have any enemies?" Sam asks in a calm, inquisitive voice. "Anybody who might have a problem with him, now or in the past?"
"Maybe his brother Joey, they fought all the time. It's so sad. They never got to set it right."
"Because Billy died." Dean suggests.
"No, Joey did. Afghanistan," Janet replies.
"Do you know where he's buried?" Sam asks.
"He's not. Body never came home." Janet says, her voice breaking a little bit. "IED."
"Did Billy happen to have any of his brother's belongings when he died? Dogtags, a hat, something?" Dean asks.
"Just his pickup," Janet answers.
"So the truck belonged to Joey," Sam asks.
"Yeah, it was his pride and joy," Janet say smiling. "Billy got it when he died and you know. It's a thing."
"Yeah," Dean nods.
Janet's cell phone rings. "Excuse me," she says, picking it up and leaving the chair to answer her phone.
"So what's a thing?" Sam asks Dean, as the brothers stand up.
"You know the truck thing," Dean says, waving his hand. "You honor the deceased by driving their truck. Sam, they wrote whole country songs about it. Why don't you google it," Dean snarks pettily.
Night
Dressed in his hoodie and jeans, Dean struggles to snip the chain on the gate in a chain-link fence. Finally, he shoves the gate open with a clatter, grunting as he pushes with both hands. Sam follows behind with a flashlight.
"Alright," Dean says. "So we're looking for something that used to resemble a pick-up truck."
The brothers walk casually through the junkyard, Dean in the lead.
"Here we go," Dean says, looking at a large extended cab pickup. He raises his light voice to carry over the loud honks and traffic noises. The junkyard is near a freeway.
The brothers approach the pickup. The front end of the truck is smashed. Dean shines his flashlight on the license plate, which reads SEMPERFI. "Yeah, marine," he says, referring to the motto of the U.S. Marine Corps, Always Faithful.
"I'm guessing this ain't oil," Sam says in a loud, deep voice, speaking over the traffic noise. His flashlight shines through the broken window of the cab. Grey mud-like goop covers the driver's seat.
"That .. is ectoplasm," Dean says.
"Huh," Sam snorts loudly. "Look at this." Sam holds up an EMF reader, flashing red. "Joey?"
"Looks like," Dean says. "Alright, so big brother didn't get along with little brother. Was pissed that he was driving his baby. I get it," Dean says, making up an explanation.
"Are you saying if you died and I drove your car, you'd kill me?"
Dean looks at Sam, putting on a face. "If you stunk her up with taquitos, probably," Dean's face breaks into a smile.
Sam grimaces back at his young, older brother.
"Alright, let's see." Dean carelessly drops his bag on the bare, wet ground. He throws salt into the truck while Sam sloshes gasoline over the truck. Dean lights a book of matches, tossing it into the cab. The pickup catches fire. The brothers stand side-by-side, watching the pickup burn.
A Bedroom
A young, brown-haired woman turns off the tv news report. "Ugh, I can't believe our art history final is tomorrow," she says to her roommate.
"I know, this semester totally flew by," the roommate says in a shrill voice.
"Yeah, " Delilah says, rummaging in her backpack. "Time flies when you're drunk." The two young women look at each other and laugh.
"Wanna come to the library with me?" Delilah asks. "Still have so much to memorize. I thought looking at pictures of naked guys was going to be easy."
"Thanks but I don't really need to study for it. I have a photographic memory. Hashtag blessed," the roommate kids Delilah.
"Um, you don't need to study for it because you're screwing the TA," Janet says, as she leaves. "Hashtag slut," Janet says.
The roommate laughs. She sits down at her desk, picking up her phone. She makes a face, holds the phone out and takes a selfie. The open laptop blips. A chat from PrincessElsa8 pops up on the screen.
The roommate types: who are you?
PrincessElsa8: a friend
Roommate: #curious. what's up friend?
PrincessElsa8: nm, liar
Roommate: #confused, what did i lie about?
PrincessElsa8: 810
The roommate gasps.
PrincessElsa8: I know.
PrincessElsa8: you'll pay.
The roommate closes the conversation window.
The laptop pops up another chat from PrincessElsa8: 810
The roommate quickly closes the chat and turns off the laptop. The laptop screen starts to shut down, but then returns to a pink Kappa Delta Lamba sorority desktop.
Another chat from PrincessElsa8: 810
The roommate closes the chat and quickly closes the laptop cover, backing away from the desk.
The laptop cover flips back up. The screen flashes again.
PrincessElsa8: 810
The roommate's breath frosts in the ghostly cold air.
The laptop screen goes black: 810 .. 810
The roommate darts forward, closing the laptop again. She pauses, then turns and runs to the door. In front of her, it swings shut. She grabs the door handle, squeezing the knob, but it will not open.
Behind her, a powercord floats up. Suddenly, it snakes around her neck. Screaming, the roommate grabs at the cord, her fingers unable to get a grip between the cord and her throat. Her scream turns into a gasp as the cord tightens. She staggers and slowly half falls, half sits down on the floor. Long minutes pass as she gasps silently. Finally, she drops to the floor.
Outside Kappa Delta Lamba House
"I'll hang out here," Dean mutters. "Just keep your cell phone on." He turns back away from the house as Sam walks up the steps.
Sam strides into the house, ducking under police tape. A woman dressed in business clothing with a badge hanging at her neck walks in front of them. "Delilah Marian, the roommate. Found her this morning after an all-nighter at the library."
"Strangulation?" Sam asks.
"Sicko used the power cord from the computer." The woman responds.
"Any suspects?" Sam asks.
"None yet," the woman replies. "The odd thing was the door was locked."
"Huh," Sam grunts. "Have you talked to any of the other girls that lived here?"
"Well, most of them have already left for spring break. But the roommate was really helpful. She gave us all of Julie's passwords that she knew. And nowadays, the only way to find out anything about teenagers is through social media."
Sam smiles.
"Trust me, I've got two of em," the woman continues. Behind Sam, an officer in an FBI jacket looks at the woman. "Excuse me, agent," she says, gesturing at the FBI officer and walking towards him.
"Vengeful spirit much," Dean comments through the phone.
"Shh. Keep it down. Joey's or another ghosts?" Sam asks and he switches the phone off speaker and raises it to his ear.
"I don't know." Sam sweeps through the room casually, EMF reader held at his side. Red lights blink and the EMF read whines as Sam passes it by the laptop. Sam turns the phone so Dean can see the laptop.
"So first it possesses a truck, and then it possesses a computer? Both machine related kills." Dean comments.
"So what .. you think we're dealing with a ghost in a machine?" Sam asks.
"Maybe," Dean mutters. "If it is the same ghost. They usually anchor themselves to a place or a thing. How is this one jumping from one machine to the next?"
Sam glances around to see if anyone is watching, then picks up the laptop, slipping it under his coat.
On the Porch of Kappa Delta Lamba House
"Well I really appreciate your help Delilah. I know this can't possibly be easy. Did Julie by chance know a student named Billy Bass?" Sam asks calmly.
"Everyone knew Billy. He's the president of Sigma Theta Delta."
"STD?" Dean mumbles with a smirk, his ear to his cell phone, standing behind the corner of the house.
"What's that?" Sam asks politely.
"It's the biggest frat on campus," Delilah replies.
"Did she have any enemies? Any reason someone might want to hurt her?" Sam asks.
Delilah looks thoughtful. "No. Julie's really popular. Super sweet. I can't imagine anyone wanting to hurt her."
Delilah looks away from Sam, at the gray sky and the trees past the house. Her face scrunches up in suppressed emotion.
Cafeteria
Dean slides a heaping tray of food past the cashier. He walks over to Sam, who is sitting at a small table with Julie's pink laptop open in front of him.
"A cafe au lait for the lady," Dean says, putting a cup in front of Sam.
"And a heart attack for you." Sam says, waving his hand at the overfull tray.
"Heh, heh," Dean laughs. "This is unreal! Look at this, I got Italian, I got Chinese, serve yourself fro-yo!" Dean exclaims with childish greed.
Sam looks on, slightly puzzled and concerned.
"It's better than Vegas."
Sam winces, thinking that Dean would be even more embarrassing if he acted like this in his adult body.
"What do you got?" Dean asks as he digs into the food.
"Unfortunately, I got a lot of nothing. I..." Sam pauses, looking at the mass of noodles protruding from Dean's mouth. "I hit up Julie's facebook, instagram, twitter, instachat, snapchat, AIM. Nothing but posts on Rush and 50 Shades of Gray the movie."
"Yeah I didn't get half of that," Dean says.
"Heh, it doesn't matter." Sam says. "Now I'm going through her deleted files."
"You can do that?" Dean asks.
"Yeah," Sam nods slightly.
"Huh," Dean says as he shovels more noodles into his gaping mouth.
"I mean nothing ever really gets deleted, you know that." Sam says. He looks at Dean's wincing face. "You knew that right?" Sam sighs.
"Alright. Here we go."
PrincessElsa8's chat pops up on the screen.
"A deleted instachat from right around the time of death last night." Sam tells Dean.
"From who?" Dean asks.
"With PrincessElsa8." Sam says, taking the laptop and turning it around so Dean sees the screen.
"Liar, I know, you'll pay?" Dean says, reading bits of the text from the screen. "Well PrincessElsa's some bitch. What's 810?"
Sam spins the laptop around to look at the screen. "I dunno, it's ..." Sam types on the laptop.
"Maybe it's a time of day, or an area code," Dean waves a hand holding a half-eaten slice of pizza that looks as stiff as cardboard.
"Uh, area code is for southeast Michigan," Sam replies. "You know what, here we go. There are three addresses in Spencer that have 810 in them."
Dean nods and stabs a plastic fork into the pile of food. "I'll see if i can get this to go."
Sam sighs and shuts the laptop.
810 Downs Drive
The impala pulls up to a mansion behind neatly trimmed hedges. Sam parks the car and dials a number on his cell phone.
"Yeah, I got it. Thank you for taking the time. We'll keep in touch." Sam pulls the cell phone away from his ear and turns to Dean, "So PrincessElsa8 is not some crazed cyberkiller. She is a third grader from Lake Nicaboyne Wisconsin who is obsessed with Frozen. She was fast asleep when the instachat occurred."
"So, what a hack job," Dean asks.
"Or something," Sam says.
The brothers watch as a woman leaves the front door of the mansion. The woman walks carelessly down the middle of the quiet street, a black garbage bag held in one hand.
The brother gets out of the car and follow her, twenty feet back, making no effort to hide.
At a power pole a short distance away, the woman stops and crouches. A pile of memorial flowers lie at the base of pole. She starts picking them up and putting them into the trashbag.
Sam flicks his hand at Dean as they get close. "Excuse me ma'am," Sam says in a calm, polite voice, pausing to pat Dean awkwardly on the head. "My son and I are new in town. We're just uh .. taking a walk here. May we ask what you're doing?"
"Um, throwing away dead flowers," the woman says, taken aback. She gets up to her feet. "Is that a crime?" she says defensively.
"Well, it's not a crime, just a little strange." Dean says snarkily. "Seeing as how they aren't dead,"
"Hah. It's not so strange if they feel like they're taunting you," the woman shifts on her feet. "My husband was killed here in a car accident 9 months ago."
"Sorry to hear that," Sam interjects quickly.
"Our condolences." Dean says almost at the same time.
"Thank you. We were newlyweds. Never even got to our first anniversary. And to have to be reminded of that every time I look out my window or leave the house..." The woman does not continue.
"Understandable," Dean says, his mature way of speaking sounds strange coming from his teenaged body.
"Excuse me, but did you notice anything weird after your husband's death. Any strange disturbances or ..." Sam trails off.
"I'm not sure what you mean." the woman responds evenly.
"Any cold spots, or sudden chills," Dean jumps in.
"No, nothing, nevermind." Sam speaks over Dean.
The conversation pauses for a moment.
"Any idea who's leaving the flowers?" Dean asks.
"Some teenaged girl," the woman replies. "I think she goes to the college cuz she's always in greek letters."
"Do you know her name?" Sam asks.
"No. Ah, she has long red hair."
Kasen College Campus
"This is Agent Grohl again, please give me a call as soon as you can. Thanks." Sam hangs up the phone. Dean munches his way through a pile of french fries.
"Look at this. Andrew Silver 29-year old Spencer High School teacher killed in fatal accident. Uh, car burst into flames, Silver's body was burned beyond recognition, and he is believes to have been killed upon impact."
Dean dips a fry in mayonnaise, then ketchup, and shoves the gob of condiments into his mouth. "So, Andy the angry ghost, he dies at 810 Downs Drive and then he torments Julie with her computer. So what's his beef with her?"
"What's the connection to Billy?" Sam asks.
"Does it say where he's buried?" Dean asks.
"He wasn't, he was cremated." Sam replies.
"So no bones, and he's not tethered to any object that we know of." Dean says.
"How's Andrew hunting his victims?" Sam shakes his head a little.
Dean puts down a shake, while still munching in a fry.
"You gonna eat all that?" Sams says disapprovingly.
"What you want some?" Dean asks.
A bedroom
A young man lies on his bed, flicking through profile photos on a dating app.
"Feds called, like three times already," the red-haired woman's voice is shaky. "Kyle! Are you listening to me?" It's Delilah. "I think they know." She paces the room near Kyle's bed. "Maybe it's time we should come clean."
Kyle looks up from his cell phone. "Uh, that's not going to happen," he says casually in a quiet voice.
"Look where keeping our mouths shut got us!" she says loudly, in an urgent voice. "I think it's karma. Maybe we're being cursed or something, I don't know. First Billy, now Julie?"
"Look, it totally sucks that Billy and Julie died. But it's just a crappy coincidence, not a curse."
"If we don't do something. I'm worried." Delilah says.
Kyle gets off his bed. "Delilah," he calls out, raising his voice. "Stop. I'm serious. You better keep your mouth shut or you're gonna have a lot more than a curse to worry about." He looks directly into Delilah's eyes, challenging her.
Delilah backs down, turns away and leaves the room, carrying her jacket in her hand.
Kyle sits back down on the bed, looking at his phone. A chat request pops up from QTPIE.
QTPIE: I'm bored, wanna hook up?
Kyle: Hells yeah! Come over. STD.
QTPIE: Guess we're using condoms. LOL.
Kyle: Don't worry. I'm clean. But hope we can get dirty. Where r u?
A knock at the door draws Kyle's attention. He opens the door. Outside, the hallway is empty. Muffled heavy metal music is audible in the background. A fat frat brother walks by in a towel. "Was that you?" Kyle asks randomly.
"Nah," the guy looks over, then keeps walking.
Kyle walks back inside. The door slams shut behind him. Kyle whirls around. His cell phone rings and he glances down then answers.
"Hello?" he asks in a hesitant voice.
"What time is this?" a man's voice yells through the cell phone.
8:10 shows on Kyle's radio clock from across the room. Suddenly, the music gets louder. The dials on the stereo turn. Two tall towers of speakers throb. Kyle covers his ears.
Outside Kyle's Room
The fat frat brother runs back in a funny crouch, his hands over his ears. "Hey, hey! Lower the tunes!" he shouts, his voice barely audible.
Kyle's Room
Kyle screams, blood running from his nose. His breath frosts and blood trickles from his eyes. The window explodes inwards and Kyle falls backwards. His scream can't be heard above the music.
Delilah's Room
"You okay?" Sam asks, dressed casually in jeans and his usual jacket.
Delilah whimpers, "Not really."
The door clicks open and Dean walks in.
"Hey," Sam stands up.
"Yeah, death by decibel." Dean says.
"What?"
"Kyle's brains were jellied by his speakers. Oh and get this, the clock on the stereo stopped at 8:10."
"8:10?" Sam asks.
"Yeah," Dean replies curtly.
"Again." Sam finishes.
"Mm hmm." Dean replies. He looks down at Delilah.
"Look we know you're the one leaving the flowers, so why don't you just tell us what happened the night of Andrew Silvers' accident." Dean leans over the girl, speaking loudly and threateningly.
"Uh..." Delilah looks distressed.
"Delilah please," Sam says more quietly. "This is the third death in five days. Who knows who's going to be next," Sam pleads urgently.
"I am," Delilah whimpers in a quiet voice. "The car accident wasn't exactly an accident." She tells her story.
Flashback:
An extended cab pickup barrels down a dark road, streetlights flashing by too fast.
Hozier's Take me to Church plays quietly in the. Two young men sit in the front seats, phones held out to each other. "Dude I just retweeted your tweet."
"Just favorited yours," his friend replies.
"Hey here, selfie," Delilah and Julie are in the back seat. Julie holds out her phone and they make faces into the camera. "OMG I'm such a hag, I look like I'm 25," Julie exaggerates.
"That's what filters are for," Delilah says.
"Uh ewww, delete," Julie says in a fake artifical voice.
"Check this ... wait, I'm sending it to you dude," Billy's voice comes from the front of the car. He veers into the other lane. An oncoming car honks desperately.
Both cars swerve. The other car smashes into the power pole head first. The truck skids to a stop on the street.
"Oh my god Billy!" Delilah looks over her shoulder at the wreck. "Call 911! Call 911!"
Delilah's friends don't respond.
Suddenly, a powerline drops down onto the passenger car. The kids scream as the passenger car catches fire.
The man inside struggles confusedly with the door and his seatbelt.
Billy guns the engine of his SUV and they race away as the car behind them bursts into flames.
"What the hell are you doing?" Delilah asks disbelievingly.
"I'm getting out of here before the cops come," Billy replies in a tight voice.
The girl gasps. "We just killed that guy." Delilah dials her phone.
"Hey you're not calling the cops!" Billy orders. "Cause I already have a DUI and if they find out I'm driving on a suspended license I'm going to jail."
Kyle reaches back and puts his hand over Delilah's phone, holding it.
"Come on Billy! This isn't right. Help me out here guys!"
"It's not our problem D," Julie gasps.
"What?" Delilah says in an upset voice.
"Somebody else will call the cops," Julie says in a small voice.
"Not a word, you hear me?" Billy says.
Delilah's Room
"I shouldn't have let them talk me out of it," Delilah says. "It was wrong. And now we're being punished. Seriously, what are the chances that three out of the four of us die in one week. It can't be a coincidence."
"It's not a coincidence," Sam says in a rough voice. "It's a ghost."
"It's the vengeful spirit of Andrew Silver." Dean says.
"A ghost?" Delilah says, her voice rising.
"Yeah, they're real," Sam says.
"It's sort of what we do," Dean explains.
"So, you're like .. ghostbusters?" Delilah asks.
"Sure. First things first though. You need to stay inside this salt circle." Dean speaks quickly, as he lays down a line of salt around Delilah, "While we take care of him, ok?"
"How do you take care of him?" Delilah asks in a wavering voice?
"Please tell me you know how to take care of him."
"Usually a ghost is tied to a place or an object." Sam explains. "You get rid of the object, you get rid of the ghost. But with Andrew it's uh, different."
"What's he tied to?" Delilah asks.
"We're working on it," Dean says unreassuringly.
"But, if we can figure out how he's traveling, we can figure out how to stop him." Sam says.
"You know this might be a shocker situation. The paper said he died from a collision, but Delilah says he died from electrocution, so maybe that's how he's surfing. He's using the power lines as a conduit." Dean says.
"That would make sense with the computer and stereo kills but not the pickup. I mean the truck runs on gas." Sam says.
"Alright, it's got to be something else then." Dean responds.
"Alright, I'll go back to the accident site and check it out. Stay here and take care of her." Sam says.
Dean locks the door behind Sam, then takes out an iron crowbar. He sits on the bed near Delilah and hands her a box of tissues. As soon as she takes one, he restlessly tosses the box onto the bed behind him. He quickly jumps up and paces the room with youthful energy. "You getting tired?" Dean asks her.
"No, I'm used to it. Stay up all night studying. The nightmares. My mom is thrilled with my GPA but I just... I struggle. I think about Andrew all the time. I've never even met the guy."
810 Downs Drive
Sam walks down the middle of the quiet, residential street. He shines a flashlight up at the powerlines. An overly bright green light blinks on an electrical box near the top of the pole. A similar box with a flashing green light is attached partway up a lattice tower.
Delilah's Room
"It's pretty crazy to obsess about somebody you've never met." Delilah says.
"It's not that crazy," Dean says. "Truth is, I can relate."
"Really?" Delilah asks in a small voice.
"I have made more mistakes than I can count." A thin smile crosses Dean's young, handsome face. "Ones that haunt me day and night."
"So, how do you deal?"
"Whiskey." Dean half laughs as he gives his dysfunctional reply.
Delilah looks at Dean.
"Denial." Dean pauses and looks at Delilah. "I do my best to make things right. Whatever that may be."
Delilah nods a tiny nod.
"For you maybe it's coming clean. You know, finding a way to ask for forgiveness. But not breaking the bank at your local florist. Real forgiveness. You can't just buy or bury stuff like this. You gotta deal with it."
Dean's cell phone rings. He gets up and paces as he takes it out, glancing at the screen. "Hey what you got?"
Sam's breath is frosty in the night air. "Dean, Andrew's not using power lines to move. He's using the wifi."
"Come again?" Dean asks.
"The wires that electrocuted Andew. They ... they feed directly into a wifi tower right across the street."
"So even ghosts are online?" Dean says exasperatedly.
"Apparently. I mean it would explain the truck kill. And Billy cell must have been using a local wifi signal. So uh Andrew's ghost must have just hopped onto Trinie. That ... that nav app." Sam says.
"And then Julie's death by computer. Kyle's death by stereo with the wireless speakers." Dean fills in.
"I mean it makes sense, Dean." Sam says. "We're all just a bunch of electrical impulses right? So whenever Andrew died, his impulses just transferred to another current. You gotta get Delilah somewhere safe. Turn off all the routers in that sorority."
"Oh yeah, sure Sammy, we'll just kill the internet. Wait can we?"
"No, no, well not really." Sam replies.
"Huh. Alright so how the hell can we deal with lawnmower man?" Dean says.
"You know what, I have an idea." Sam replies. "Do what I said. Stay safe. I'll call you back." Sam hangs up.
Dean turns to Delilah. "You know where the routers are?"
"I have no idea," Delilah shakes her head.
The lights in the room flicker. Dean's breath comes out white in the suddenly cold air.
An angry face appears in the laptop screen.
"Aaaa!" Delilah screams.
Dean smashes the screen with his iron crowbar.
"Does that even work?" Delilah asks nonsensically.
"Worth a shot," Dean says, smashing the screen on another laptop. He grabs Delilah's phone and throws it outside the salt circle, hitting it with the crowbar.
810 Downs Drive
Sam knocks on the door to the mansion. Andrew's wife opens the door.
"I'm so sorry to bother you, Mrs. Silverman, but I have an emergency and I really need your help. This is going to sound strange."
Mrs. Silverman makes a face. "It's my husband isn't it. Come in. She swings the door open wide. Sam steps inside.
Delilah's Room
"Where are we going?" Delilah asks in a frightened voice.
"To a place there isn't a wifi signal." Dean shouts back, striding out of the room.
"The basement! The reception sucks there!" Delilah runs ahead of Dean, heading down the stairs. The two of them race down the stairs.
Dean shuts the door to the basement. He shakes salt out in a line at the door and the window.
"I thought the salt didn't work!?" Delilah asks.
"There's no wifi here. Can't bypass it.
Mrs. Silverman's Home
Sam and Mrs. Silverman stand in front of a computer in a study. "It wasn't too long after the accident that Andrew started contacting me."
"Contacting you how?" Sam asks.
"Online. At first I thought it was just a joke. Someone was playing a cruel prank on me. But Andrew knew things. Things that only he and I would know. Inside jokes. The code to our alarm. My obsession with lifetime movies. It was then that I knew I had my husband back, even just in spirit."
"Did you never think to ask him what he was?" Sam questions Mrs. Silver.
"I've read books and seen movies. I knew that he's a ghost or something, but I didn't care." She sits down on a sofa, kitty-corner with Sam. "He's my husband. And, it's romantic even. He'd send me love notes. Stay up all night reminiscing. Then he started acting strange."
"What do you mean strange?" Sam asks.
"I don't know. He'd just disappear. Radio silence. And I don't know when he'd start emailing again. But he was different. Focused."
"Focused on what?" Sam prompts.
"Revenge." Mrs. Silvers answers. "And the kids at the college started dying. I thought it might be Andrew. It... What was I supposed to do? Call the cops and tell them the ghost of my dead husband is picking off co-eds? But mostly I just didn't want to face the truth. Because I knew it was revenge that brought him back. And if I tried to stop him, that he might go away. And I didn't want to lose him again."
Basement
"Try to stay calm," Dean tells Delilah as he paces restlessly. "What was that?" A sound catches Dean's attention. He looks through the sofa cushions, pulling out a buzzing cell phone.
The burnt corpse of Mr. Silverman appears in front of Delilah. "Aaaa!" she screams. Dean strides over, swinging the crowbar. Andrew flings Dean back with a look. Dean hits a basement post and falls down with a thud.
"Please don't kill me!" Delilah pleads, backing up against a laundry machine. "We didn't mean to hurt you. It was an accident. I swear. If I could do it over again, I would have done the right thing." Delilah chokes on her last words as Andrew Silverman grabs her by the throat, lifting her off her feet.
Suddenly, she drops as the ghost disappears. Dean's fast crowbar swings passes through the ghosts' body. "Let's go, the door!"
Delilah runs and pulls at the door frantically. "It's locked!"
"Andrew listen to me," Dean says, talking to the air. "You have every right to be pissed," Dean picks up the cell phone. "But take it from me, the more you kill, the crazier you'll get. The blood fuels the rage." Dean dials Sam's number. "So looks like to me, you got two choices. You can keep killing and become something that you won't recognize. Or you can move on. Because that is the only thing that will give you peace. It's up to you man!"
Dean and Delilah look around. "Pain or peace," Dean says, looking around.
"Aaaa!" Delilah screams as Andrew's ghostly form appears behind Dean.
Andrew puts his hands on Dean's chest. Dean flies through a flimsy wooden door into a storage closet.
Dean gets up and stumbles out of the closet. Andrew appears again, grabbing Dean by the throat. He pushes Dean back against the wall. Dean grunts as he chokes. His hands clasp the ghosts hands, but can't move them.
"Andrew, It's Corrie." The voice and face of Mrs. Silverman come through the cell phone. "Please listen to me."
Delilah holds the cell phone facing the ghost. "You have to stop this. Revenge. It's turning you into a different person." Dean's face turns red and he grunts as he slowly chokes. "It's time for me to let go. And for you to do the same. Please Andrew .. please."
Andrew lets go.
Dean gasps and slides down the wall.
"Do this for me, do this for us!" Mrs. Silverman pleads.
Andrew nods slightly.
"Goodbye," she says firmly.
The ghost disappears in a ball of red-tinged white light. Dean gasps for breath, leaning back against the wall.
Sam watches silently as Mrs. Silverman sobs.
810 Downs Drive
"You sure you wannna do this?" Dean asks from the front passenger seat.
Delilah sniffs, her face blotchy with tears. She nods. "Yeah, should have done this a long time ago." She gets out of the impala.
The brothers watch as Delilah walks up to the door of Mrs. Silverman's mansion. She knocks. The door opens.
Mrs Silverman looks over Delilah's head at Dean and Sam. "Come in, she says to Delilah."
"It looks like Andrew wasn't the only one who chose peace," Sam says.
"Yeah, looks like," Dean's young voice sounds strange. "Look at what those thoughts lead to."
"What do you mean?" Sam asks.
"My peace is helping people. Workin cases. That's all I wanna do."
"Is this about the mark?" Sam asks.
"I'm done trying to find a cure Sammy."
"Dean, Cass is so close."
"To what?" Dean asks.
Sam heaves a sigh.
"We don't even know if there is a cure. So far we got nothing. We have found nothing at the men of letters library. Metatron may or may not know something and maybe Cass is onto something with Cain. Maybe."
"Yeah, maybe," Sam says impatiently. "Look, nothing is guaranteed, Dean. So what?! You can't just stop fighting."
"Yes, we can." Dean says.
"So this is it, you just gonna give up," Sam snarls out the last words.
"Nope, I'm not gonna just give up." Dean retorts. "I appreciate the effort, ok, I do. But the answer is not out there. It's within me. I need to be the one calling the shots here. Hey I can't keep waking up every morning with this false hope. I gotta know where I stand. Otherwise I'm gonna lose my freakin mind."
Sam swallows heavily.
Sam looks over at Dean. He rests his hand on his brother's shoulder for a moment. Dean looks up at his younger brother.
Sam starts the car. The impala speeds off.