Author's Note: Thank you all again for your reviews – They really do help, I've noticed review asking whether I will bring Valkyrie's darker true self: Darquesse into the story. Well guess what? You'll have to wait and see, I have so many plans for Valkyrie with the Winchesters.
Winchester and Cain Chapter 04 – Phantom Traveller
Valkyrie's P.O.V
Dean was asleep on the bed next to me across the room, I hadn't really gotten much sleep last night, my final conversation with Lucas had scared me. The idea of never returning to my home just didn't sound right, I'd never see my parents, my baby sister and cousins, my crazy aunt and uncle or Skulduggery. I sat up quickly when tears started forming in my eyes, I got out of bed and crossed the motel room for a tissue. I breathed deeply at my reflection in a mirror hanging on the wall and scoffed to myself at the dramatics, throwing the tissue in the bin right as the door opened, instinctively I clicked my fingers and conjured a flame, on the other side of the room I saw Dean's hand slide under his pillow and pull out a knife. "Morning, sunshines." I heard Sam joke, turning on the lights to reveal him holding three coffee cups and a brown bag. I sighed in relief and let the flames in my hands die out, and I rolled my eyes at him.
"What time is it?" Dean groaned from his bed, his knife on the bedside table and his head under the sheets.
"Uh, it's about five forty-five." Sam answered, twisting his wrist so he could read his watch.
"In the morning?" Dean mumbled.
"Must be." I answered, and Dean rolled his eyes as he sat up and stretched.
"Where does the day go?" He smiled sleepily and then looked at his younger brother. "Did you get any sleep last night?" He asked.
"Yeah, I grabbed a couple of hours." Sam shrugged and I frowned.
"Liar, because I was up at three, and you were watching a George Foreman info-thingy." I commented, raising an eyebrow at Sam.
"Hey, firstly it's called an infomercial, ok? And secondly, what can I say? It's riveting TV." Sam retorted, narrowing his eyes at me. "And I didn't see you sleeping much, either, Steph." He added and I shrugged.
"So I couldn't sleep last night, so what? I almost died yesterday – I think I'm entitled to a sleepless night." I lied smoothly, yawning as Sam handed me one of the coffee cups.
"Ok, ok. So, Sam, Stephanie has an excuse, what's yours? In fact, when was the last time you got a good night's sleep?" Dean asked as I sat at the table.
"I don't know. A little while, I guess – it's not a big deal." Sam shrugged and opened the curtains, I frowned at him and glanced at Dean.
"Yeah it is." I argued, Dean nodded in agreement. Sam turned and saw Dean and I frowning at him in concern and he sighed and scoffed.
"Look," He chuckled, "I appreciate your concern-."
"Oh, I'm not concerned about you. It's both your jobs to keep my ass alive, so I need you both sharp. Got it?" Dean sighed as he stood up from his bed, I nod whilst Sam shrugs half-heartedly and I look at him in shock.
"Seriously, are you still having nightmares about Jess?" I asked him, Sam didn't look at me, he crossed the room over to me and set the brown paper bag on the table next to me and rubbed his eyes tiredly.
"Yeah," He admitted, exhausted, "But it's not just her. It's everything. I just forgot, you know? This job, it gets to you." He told me, I stayed quiet whilst Dean shook his head.
"You can't let it. You can't bring it home like that." He advised, I nodded in agreement and Sam scoffed.
"So, what? All this – it never keeps you up at night?" He asked the two of us, I opened my mouth to object but nothing sprung to mind, I cast my eyes to the floor and didn't answer. Meanwhile, Dean held his head high and shook it. "Never? You're never afraid?" He looked at his brother in interest, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow.
"No, not really." Dean shrugged, Sam scoffed and walked over to Dean's bedside table and held up the large, sharp hunting knife that the older brother had pulled out when Sam had first arrived. Dean frowned and took the knife from Sam, "That's not fear. That's precaution." He smirked, Sam yawned and shook his head in defeat.
"Alright, whatever. I'm too tired to argue." Sam sighed and took a swig from his coffee cup, I watched him in concern as Dean's phone started to ring.
"Hello?" He answered as he flipped it open. Another voice, a male's, sounded on the other end as Sam and I listened on in silence. "Oh right, yeah. Up in Kittanning, Pennsylvania, the, ugh, the poltergeist thing. It's not back is it?" Dean asked, I sighed and zoned out as I made my way over to the bed I had slept in last night and started to fold the sheets. My mind was on home again as a flock of birds flew past the window, I closed my eyes and imagined the sound of my baby sister laughing at my Dad's antics as he tried to find a pair off socks that matched whilst Mum, Alice and I were sat at the breakfast table.
"Steph? Steph!" A voice interrupted my day dream and I opened my eyes in shock.
"Huh?" I asked, looking at Sam and Dean in confusion.
"We got a case, we're moving out. Grab your jacket." Sam told me and I nodded, slightly dazed and walked over to where I had dumped my jacket tiredly on the floor last night.
"Thanks for making the trip so quick, I ought to be doing you guys a favour, not the other way around. Dean and John really helped me out." The man, Jerry Panowski, led us through an airport hangar.
"Yeah, he told me. It was a poltergeist?" Sam asked, a man passed and smiled at the four of us.
"Poltergeist? Man, I loved that movie." The man said as he passed by us, Jerry turned and glared at him.
"Hey! Nobody's talking to you, keep walking." He ordered, then he turned back to us, his eyes softer and friendlier, "Damn right it was a poltergeist, practically tore our house apart." Jerry continued, "Tell you something, if it wasn't for you and your Dad – I probably wouldn't be alive." He told Dean, the older Winchester smiled and shrugged, Jerry smiled back and then looked at Sam, "Your Dad said you were off at college. Is that right?" He asked the younger Winchester, Sam nodded slowly.
"Yeah, I was. I'm – taking some time off." He admitted. Jerry nodded and then looked at me, his eyes holding no recognition at me at all – which didn't surprise me in the slightest.
"And you, well, I haven't ever met or heard about you, how do you know the Winchester's?" He asked me.
"Uhhmm..." I trailed off, looking at the two brother's for help.
"Her name is Stephanie, she's just a close friend who we hunt with." Dean told them man, Jerry nodded and smiled.
"Well, it's nice to meet you, Stephanie." He greeted and I nodded, then he turned back to Sam.
"He was really proud of you, your Dad. He talked about you all the time." Jerry told him, Sam looked up in surprise.
"He did?" He asked.
"Yeah, you bet he did. Oh, hey, you know I tried to get a hold of him, but I couldn't. How's he doing, anyway?" Jerry changed the subject at an alarming rate and I blinked.
"He's, umm, wrapped up in a job right now." Dean answered.
"Well, we're missing the old man – but we get Stephanie and Sam. Even trade, huh?" Jerry asked cheerily, Dean and Sam laughed, much to my surprise and I frowned in confusion.
"No, not by a long shot." Sam answered, Jerry shrugged and made a face.
"I got something I want you guys to hear." The man moved on, we came to an office with Jerry's name on it and he motioned for us to go inside, we grouped next to Jerry's desk and waited patiently for him to show us the thing. "I listened to this. And, well, it sounded like it was up your alley." Jerry smiled as he opened a box and pulled out an unmarked CD, he puts it in a drive and taps the desk impatiently as he waits for it to load. "Normally I wouldn't have access to this. It's the cockpit voice recorder for United Britannia flight 2485. It was one of ours." He explained as a clip appeared up on the computer screen, he clicked it and the four of us leaned in and listened.
"Mayday! Mayday! Repeat! This is United Britannia 2485 – immediate instruction help! United Britannia 2485, I copy your message... May be experiencing some mechanical failure..." A voice sounded above a large amount of static, a whooshing sound appeared after the message ended and I glanced up at the two brothers and frowned in confusion.
"Took off from here, crashed about two hundred miles south. Now, they're saying mechanical failure. Cabin depressurized somehow. Nobody knows why, over a hundred people were on board and only seven got out alive. Pilot was one, his name is Chuck Lambert. He's a good friend of mine... Chuck is, uh... well, he's pretty broken up about it. Like it was his fault." Jerry explained, his smile no longer cheery.
"You don't think it was?" Sam asked and Jerry shook his head.
"No, I don't." Jerry answered.
"Right, well, we're gonna need the, uh, passenger manifests, right?" I looked at Sam and he nodded, beside him Dean was looking at me blankly, "A list of survivors." I answered and he nodded in understanding.
"Alright." Jerry smiled.
"And, uh, any way we can take a look at the wreckage?" Dean added.
"The other stuff is no problem. But the wreckage... guys, the NTSB has it locked down in an evidence warehouse. No way I've got that kind of clearance." Jerry shook his head, Dean nodded and paused for a moment, the challenge shining in his dark eyes.
"No problem." He grinned.
Sam and I were waiting by the car outside a printing shop for Dean, a good twenty minutes had passed and I was starting to get bored, Sam was starting to get annoyed at his older brother's tardiness but I didn't care, time like this gave me the opportunity to pour over Lucas's words and reminisce about my old life. "You've been in there forever." Sam's voice, yet again, ruined my daydreams. I turned to see Dean smugly holding up three IDs.
"You can't rush perfection." Dean frowned at his brother as he handed the IDs to us, I couldn't help but be impressed at Dean's detailing on fraud.
"Homeland Security?" I laughed, Dean grinned and shrugged whilst Sam frowned at us.
"That's pretty illegal, even for us." Sam said worriedly.
"Yeah, well it's something new, you know? People haven't seen it a thousand times." Dean replied and I nodded in agreement.
"That's true." I commented, still smiling as we got into the car.
"Alright, so what do you got?" Dean asked as Sam belted his seatbelt up.
"Well, there's definitely EVP on the cockpit voice recorder." Sam started.
"Yeah?"
"Listen." Sam told him as he put a tape into the stereo, he pressed play and the car became silent as we listened to the playback. There was static and then the loud whooshing sound that was the same as the one from the recording Jerry had shown us, then the static cleared and one scratchy, cold voice sounded through the speakers:
"No survivors."
"No survivors?" I repeated, "What's that supposed to mean? There were seven survivors." I told them, frowning in confusion as the tape ended.
"Got me." Sam shrugged and took the tape back out of the stereo.
"So, what are you thinking?" I asked them.
"I don't know, uh, haunted flight maybe?" Dean replied.
"There's a long history of spirits and death omens on planes and ships, like phantom travellers." Sam explained and I nodded.
"Mm-hmm." I muttered.
"Or remember flight 401?" Sam continued.
"Uh, no." I frowned.
"It's a flight that crashed, the airline salvaged some parts from the crash and put it in other planes, then the spirit of the pilot and copilot haunted those flights." Dean explained.
"Right."
"Maybe we got a similar deal." Sam suggested, and Dean nodded.
"Alright, so: no survivors. Which one do you want to talk to first?" He asked, Sam bought out a folded piece of paper and straightened it out, revealing a list of names Sam had written out.
"Third on the list," He tapped at it, "Max Jaffey." He read aloud.
"Why him?" I asked.
"Well, for one, he's from around here. And two, if anyone saw anything weird, he did." Sam answered.
"What makes you say that?" Dean asked.
"Well, I spoke to his mother." He shrugged and I frowned.
"Wait, when did you speak to his mother?" I asked – I had been with Sam the whole time Dean was in the printer shop, I didn't remember him taking any phone calls.
"Ummm earlier? When we were waiting for Dean outside... You were stood right next to me." Sam looked shot me a strange look and I stared blankly back at him.
"I was?" I asked, perplexed.
"Yeah..." He frowned and looked at me closely, "Are you... ok?"
"Yep – yes! I am fine, so, Max... Jaffey was it? Why him?" I spoke quickly, trying hard to shift the conversation topic away from me, Sam and Dean exchanged a glance but I ignored it.
"Uhh, well, for one: he's from around here. And two, if anyone saw anything weird, he did." Sam stuttered, looking at me in shock.
"Right, excellent." I said, clapping my hands together, "Where is he?"
"I don't understand. I already spoke with Homeland Security." Max protested, he was walking with Sam, Dean and I through the gardens of the hospital.
"Right. Some new information has come up. So if you could just answer a couple of questions..." Dean trailed off as Max leant heavily on his cane to sit down in the chair.
"Just before the plane went down, did you notice anything... unusual?" I asked, following what Skulduggery had taught me all those years ago.
"Like what?" He asked.
"Err strange lights, weird noises, maybe. Voices?" Dean took over once more.
"No, nothing." Max shook his head.
"Mr Joffey-."
"Jaffey." He corrected me with an annoyed look but I wasn't fazed.
"Jaffey. You checked yourself in here, right?" I asked, remembering briefly what Sam had told us on the drive over. Mr Jaffey nodded in response and I leaned forward in my chair, clasping my hands together. "Can I ask why?" I continued.
"I was a little stress. I survived a plane crash." He narrowed his eyes at me but again, I ignored it.
"Uh-huh, and that's what terrified you? That's what you were afraid of?" I asked, Max's brow furrowed in deep thought as he thought over the question.
"I – I don't want to talk about this anymore." Max shook his head quickly, I glanced down at his hands resting on the head of the cane and saw they were shaking.
"See I think maybe you did see something up there. We need to know what." Sam's voice sounded above me, his hands rested on the back of the chair I was sat on. Max seemed to consider before he something in his eyes held him back.
"No. No, I was... delusional – seeing things." He denied.
"It's ok, then just tell us what you thought you saw, please." Sam continued gently.
"There was... this man, and, uh, he had these eyes. These, uh... black eyes, and I saw him – or I thought I saw him..." Max trailed off and looked down at his shoes, I saw his knees were shaking now as well as his hands.
"What?" I asked him quietly.
"He opened the emergency exit. But that's... that's impossible, right? I mean, I looked it up, there's something like two tons of pressure on that door." Max said, his voice edging on hysteria.
"This man, uh, did he seem to appear and disappear rapidly? It would look something like a mirage?" Sam asked the shaking man, he raised his eyes up at Sam and then looked at Dean and me in disbelief.
"What are you, nuts?" He asked him, his tone incredulous. I looked up at the younger Winchester and saw his head had tilted at an angle. "He was a passenger, he was sitting right in front of me." Max finally shrugged with a shake of his head.
We pulled up in front of a typically big American house in the next town over, I gulped at how expensive the front yard looked, ornate marble fountains were set out symmetrically on the neatly mown lawn. "So here we are. George Phelps, seat 20C." Sam sighed as he tapped the paper in his hands.
"Hmm. Guys, I don't care how strong you are," Dean tapped the steering wheel thoughtfully then opened his door, Sam and I followed close behind, "Even yoked up on PCP or something, no way you can open up an emergency door during a flight." He shook his head.
"Not if you're human," I shrugged and the boys looked at me in surprise, "What? You saw that wendigo – how fast it was, what if this George guy was something else. Like a monster hiding as a human." I suggested, Sam and Dean considered this and the youngest Winchester nodded.
"It's possible." He agreed, but Dean shook his head and pointed to the overly grand house.
"Does that look like a creature's lair to you?" He asked.
"Maybe it was trying to be inconspicuous." I shrugged and headed up to the door, leaving the two boys by the car.
"This is your late husband?" I asked Mrs Phelps, an ageing lady with teeth a little to white to be considered real. I was inspecting a photograph of her husband, George, who didn't look like anything special – just an ordinary man with a clearly more than modest amount of money.
"Yes, that was my George." She smiled and spoke in hushed tones.
"And you said he was a..." Dean paused on his position on the plush white leather sofa, "Dentist?"
"Mm-hm." The widow nodded, her eyes bright, "He was headed to a convention in Denver. Do you know that he was petrified to fly? For him to go like that..." She trailed off and heaved a loud sob, causing me to resist the urge to roll my eyes.
"How long were you married?" Sam asked from beside me and I stifled a groan – why couldn't we skip over all the soppy stuff?
"Thirteen years." Mrs Phelps sniffed, taking the photograph I was holding from me and staring down at it.
"In all that time," I faked a sweet smile, "Did you notice anything... strange about him, anything out of the ordinary?" I asked, widening my eyes innocently – as if I had just plucked the question out of thin air.
"Well... uh, he had acid reflux, if that's what you mean." Mrs Phelps replied with a small shrug of her narrow shoulders.
"I mean, it goes without saying: it doesn't make any sense." Sam said once Mrs Phelps had said her goodbyes to us.
"A middle aged dentist with an ulcer isn't exactly personified." Dean made a face.
"Dean's right: we need to get inside that NTSB or whatever it was warehouse, check out that wreckage." I nodded to the two brothers.
"Okay, but if we're gonna go down that route, we'd better look the part – I mean: we won't even get through the doors if you're dressed like that." Sam smirked as he gestured to my tight black tunic, black trousers, black jacket and boots.
"This is magic clothing, protects me." I raised an eyebrow at him and looked down at myself, "I thought black was formal, though?" I murmured, confused. When I got no response I looked up and saw Dean and Sam looking at eachother with an amused expression on their faces.
The boys walked out of a shop named Mort's for style wearing crisp black suits with white shirts, I met them outside wearing a ridiculous tight single shoulder black dress with my hair tied up in a bun, I had let a few strands loose to frame my face. I had practised walking in the heels I had to wear and I had just about managed it, but I dearly missed my boots and coat. "Man, I look like one of the Blues Brothers." Dean complained as he adjusted his collar.
"No you don't," Sam reassured him, "You look more like a... seventh-grader at his first dance." He smirked and I laughed, Dean frowned and looked at me, but then his eyes travelled down my body and his frown disappeared and was replaced with a smirk.
"Wow, Steph. That dress really brings out the hooker in you." He smirked and I rolled my eyes and punched him, hard. "Ow!" He complained and rubbed his arm.
"Serves you right." I glared at him, but he wasn't paying attention – Dean was looking sadly down at himself again.
"I hate this thing." He muttered to himself in a sad voice.
"Hey, you want into that warehouse or not? So shut up, both of you." Sam silenced us and walked away, Dean caught my eye and I rolled my eyes in the direction of Sam, he made faces at his turned back and I chuckled, turning it into a cough when Sam turned back to us. At that point I stumbled in the heels and swore loudly, causing both the Winchesters to burst out laughing at me.
"Not one word, either of you." I growled at them.
We entered the warehouse and showed the badges Dean had fashioned for us earlier, the guard looked us up and down and nodded us through, we walked into the empty hangar and I shut the door behind us. As soon as we were alone Dean pulled a device from his jacket pocket and put earplugs in his ears.
"What is that?" I asked as the lights on the top of the object flashed red once, indicating it had turned on.
"It's an EMF meter, it reads electromagnetic frequencies." Dean replied, holding it out at arms length and moving it slowly round as he surveyed the dark room.
"Why does that one look like a busted-up walkman?" Sam asked as he stood beside me looking at his older brother in confusion. Dean sighed and took one of the earplugs out and held the EMF meter for the both of us to see.
"'Cause that's what I made it out of. It's homemade." He looked at us in near bewilderment, and then grinned as he put the earplug back in his ear. Sam shook his head and looked at his brother as he turned away from us.
"Yeah, I can see that." He muttered and I grinned, but Dean turned back round with his grin long gone, and a look of hurt reflecting on his face. We followed him in silence as he checked over every inch of the remains of the aircraft, the last thing we did was the emergency door handle. When Dean ran his EMF meter over it and it bleeped and lit up green.
"Check out the emergency door handle." Dean said and I nodded and crouched closer to the door, I ran my finger over a short length of it's surface and when I held it up a peculiar yellow dust had covered my fingertip.
"What is this stuff?" I asked them, Dean shrugged whilst Sam came forward holding a bag and a small disposable brush.
"Only one way to find out." He answered as he scraped some of the dust off into the bag. Suddenly the sound of running footsteps echoed around the room and we heard the unmistakeable sound of the safety of lots of guns being taken off, we looked at eachother and I pointed to the emergency exit and they nodded. We pushed it open and walked out casually.
"Well, that went we-." I was cut off by several alarms blaring overhead, Sam looked at Dean and I in agitation.
"Run?" Dean suggested and we nodded, I took one step before sighing and kicking the heels away and running off in barefoot, I found the two boys looking up at a fence with barbed wire circling the top.
"Hold still." I ordered them and splayed my hands, air rushed and the two brothers cleared the fence in a terrific leap, I concentrated on using the air once again to cushion their fall and they landed safely. I smiled and snapped my palms out again, feeling the currents of air moving to push me over the fence, I landed and came up in a roll, my hair coming undone but I didn't care – we were safe.
"That was... awesome." Dean grinned once we were inside the car and speeding away from the warehouse, he looked at me in the rearview mirror, his eyes shining. "How did you do that?" He asked, I smiled back at him and shrugged.
"Magic." I replied with a wink. "So where to next, partners?" I asked, leaning forward and resting my hand on Sam's headrest, he pulled out the bag of yellow powder and held it up for us to see.
"We need to go to Jerry and see what he makes of this."
"Huh." Jerry said as he looked into the microscope, he had a camera on it projecting whatever was in the microscope onto the computer screen, "This stuff is definitely sulphur." He nodded as he looked up at us.
"You're sure?" Sam asked, Jerry looked at him and pointed to the microscope.
"Take a look for yourself." He welcomed, outside Jerry's office there was a loud banging noise followed by an angry male voice:
"You effin' piece of crap..." Drifted in through the doorway, Jerry sighed and clasped his hands together.
"If you could all excuse me, I have an idiot to fire." He gave us an edged smile and hurried from his office, Dean walked over to Sam as Jerry exited the room, I gazed at the computer screen as Dean looked into it. "Hey. Einstein. Yeah, you. What the hell are you doing? Put the wrench down-." Jerry's angry voice was cut off as I quietly shut the door, blocking off the sound of the employer being rebuked.
"Thanks, Steph. You know, there's not too many things that leave behind a sulphuric residue." Dean murmured.
"So, what does?" I asked them both.
"Demons... You think it's demonic possession?" Sam gave his brother a questioning glance.
"It would explain how a mortal man would ave the strength to open up an emergency hatch." Dean nodded as he looked up at us.
"So, under possession, you think it's possible?" I asked, the film Constantine running through my mind.
"Yeah, if the guy was possessed, it's possible." Sam nodded, beside him Dean sighed annoyedly.
"This goes way beyond floating over a bed or barfing pea soup. I mean, it's one thing to possess a person – but to use them to take down an entire airplane?" Dean said in a disgusted tone.
"Have you guys ever heard something like this before?" I asked them, hopeful that they would know how to take it out easily.
"Never." Dean shook his head.
Great.
I didn't like research with Skulduggery and I didn't like it now: we were two hours into our research and our motel room was covered with ancient news articles and weird lore on demonic possession, pages were taped to the walls and strewn across the beds, Dean and I were pretending to be reading research books, but we had secretly purchased comic books downstairs whilst Sam was laying waste into a computer. "So, every religion in every world culture has the concept of demons and demonic possession, right? I mean Christian, Native American, Hindu, you name it." Sam shrugged, beside me Dean looked up from his comic book and gave his brother a confused expression before nodding vigorously.
"Uhh yeah, but none of them, uh, describe anything like this." Dean stuttered, Sam gave him an odd look before continuing.
"Well, that's not exactly true. You see: according to Japanese beliefs, certain demons are behind certain disasters, both natural and man-made. One causes earthquakes, another causes disease." The younger Winchester explained.
"And this one causes plane crashes." I answered, getting up from my seat and stretching, glad to be back in my tunic and trousers, "So what? We have a demon that's evolved with the times and found a way to ratchet up the body count?" I asked them.
"Yeah. You know, who knows how many planes it's brought down before this one?" Sam nodded, behind me Dean snorted and turned away.
"What is it? What's wrong?" I asked, confused.
"I don't know, man. This isn't our normal gig. I mean, demons, they don't want anything – just death and destruction for its own sake. This is big..." The older brother trailed off, looking back at us and then turning his head away again, "And I wish Dad was here" He added in a soft voice, the room fell into silene and I looked between the two brothers – not wanting to interrupt their moment.
"Yeah. Me too." Sam nodded, he looked up at me and I offered up a small smile. Dean's phone burst into Purple Haze by Jimi Hendrix and he answered it quickly.
"Hello?" Dean asked, "Oh, hey, Jerry." Dean glanced up at Sam and I and then put his phone on loudspeaker so the whole room could hear the man.
"...Friend, Chuck Lambert is dead." Jerry's mournful voice told us, I widened my eyes in shock and gasped, Sam sat down in his chair and put his head in his hands.
"Jerry; I'm sorry. What happened?" Dean asked.
"He and his buddy went up in a small twin about an hour ago. The plane went down." Jerry answered.
"Where'd this happen?" Dean replied.
"Err about sixty miles west of here, near Nazareth." Jerry's respond came out loud ad clear through the mouthpiece.
"I'll try to ignore the irony of that." Dean muttered.
"I'm sorry?" Jerry asked, confused.
"Nothing. Jerry, hang in there, all right? We'll catch up with you soon." Dean assured him and then reached down and hung up the phone.
"So, Nazareth?" I smiled grimly.
"Uh-huh." The two boys nodded and we walked out the door.
We drove straight to Jerry right after we had surveyed Nazareth, we had found a similar yellow dusty substance in the pilot's cockpit and Sam had packed it into another one of the clear plastic bags and had given it straight over to the man. "Sulphur?" Dean asked him, Jerry had put it into his microscope the moment we handed it over to him. He looked up from the microscope and nodded at us.
"Well that's great," I sighed, "So, that's two plane crashes involving Chuck Lambert. This demon sounds like it was after him."
"Well, with all due respect to Chuck, if that's the case, that would be the good news." Sam responded.
"What's the bad news?" Dean looked up at his brother in confusion.
"Chuck's plane went down exactly forty minutes into flight. And get this – so did flight 2485." Sam answered, pointing to his imaginary watch for emphasis.
"Forty minutes? What does that mean?" I asked, frowning and tilting my head in confusion.
"It's, err, biblical numerology. You know Noah's Ark – it rained for forty days and forty nights, the number means death." Dean explained backhandedly, I nodded slowly.
"I went back, and there have been six plane crashes over the last decade that all went down exactly forty minutes in." Sam said, I looked at him interestedly.
"Any survivors?" I asked him.
"No. Or not until now, at least, not until flight 2485, for some reason." Sam replied and I frowned thoughtfully, then snapped my fingers excitedly when something hit me.
"On the cockpit voice recorder – remember what the EVP said?" I asked, pointing to the computer animatedly.
"'No survivors." Dean nodded, cocking his head to the right as he thought about something.
"It's going after all the survivors." Dean realised.
"Trying to finish the job." Sam agreed grimly.
Dean was driving on the way to the airport, Sam was on the phone: "Really? Well, thank you for taking our survey, and if you do plan to fly – please don't forget your friends at United Britannia Airlines. Thanks." He hung up and smiled happily, "Alright, that takes care of Blaine Sanderson and Dennis Holloway. They're not flying anytime soon." He said.
"So that only means the flight attendant Amanda something is left." I grinned in relief.
"But the problem is, is that her sister Karen told me that Amanda's flight leaves Indianapolis at eight pm. It's her first night back on the job." Sam told us, there was silence and then Dean hit his hands on the steering wheel.
"That sounds like just our luck." He growled.
"Dean, this is a five hour drive, man, even with you behind the wheel." Sam told him quietly.
"Call Amanda's cellphone again, see if we can't head her off at the pass." Dean told him, his foot pressed down on the accelerator and the car sped forward.
"I already left her three voice messages, Dean, she must have turned her cellphone off." Sam shook his head, "God, we're never gonna make it." He sighed.
"We'll make it." Dean told his brother in a determined voice. The car descended into silence and I gripped the headrests and leant forward, silently willing the vehicle to get to the airport all the more faster.
We rushed into the bustling airport and sprinted to the nearest Departure Board, I scanned the board and pointed to the one we wanted. "Right there, they're boarding in thirty minutes." I said.
"Ok, we still have some cards to play. We need to find a phone." Dean told us in a calm tone, we walked away from the crowds and over to a courtesy phone, Dean picked it up. "Hi. Gate Thirteen." Dean said in a nice, friendly voice. "I'm trying to contact Amanda Walker," Dean spoke clearly into the mouthpiece, "She's a flight attendant on fight, umm..." Dean turned to look at the Departure Board, "Flight 424." He told her, he paused and checked the time on the clock on the wall nearby, "Come on." He muttered impatiently, "Miss Walker. Hi, this is Dr James Hetfield from St Francis Memorial Hospital. We have a Karen Walker here." Dean introduced himself smoothly. "Nothing serious," He assured her quickly, "Just a minor car accident, but she was injured, so-." He stopped abruptly and Sam and I looked at him, Dean paused when Amanda's voice had stopped speaking into the earpiece. "You what?" He asked her dully, the colour draining from his face, "Uh, well... there must be some mistake." Dean tried, Sam and I exchanged a frown and tried to edge closer to the phone so we could hear what Amanda was saying to the older Winchester. "Guilty as charged." It was frightening how quickly Dean's persona changed from a professional doctor to a casual guy, "He's really sorry." He told her in an apologetic voice. "Yes, but... he really needs to see you tonight, so-." Dean frowned when he was cut off again, "Don't be like that," He smiled thinly, his eyes a little panicked, "Come on, the guy's a mess. Really, it's pathetic." He joked feebly, "Oh, yeah." He suddenly nodded, as if he was agreeing with whatever the flight attendant had said. "No, no. Wait, Amanda. Amanda!" He called into the phone loudly, attracting the attention of the passers by. "Damn it!" Dean exclaimed angrily, slamming the phone back down onto the receiver.
"Don't worry, it's fine. I can try and call her, get her to-."
"It's no use, Steph, we're gonna have to switch to plan B. We're getting on that plane." Sam cut me off, I stared at him in shock, my mouth hung open, Sam looked at his brother and I with a strange look, "Guys, that plane is leaving with over a hundred passengers on board, and if we're right, that plane is gonna crash." He told us, I sighed and nodded.
"Yeah, Sam, we know." I replied.
"Okay. So we're all getting on the plane, we need to find that demon and exorcise it. I'll get the tickets. You and Steph get whatever you can out of the trunk. Whatever that will make it through the security. Meet me back here in five minutes." He instructed us, I shifted my feet at the thought of getting a plane: I had always hated flying – the idea of dying thirty thousand feet above the ground just made me sick to stomach. "Are you guys... ok?" Sam asked, looking at Dean and I closely.
"No, not really." Dean and I said in unison, we glanced at eachother and smiled weakly, my legs were shaking slightly.
"What is it? What's wrong?" Sam asked us.
"The flying." I blurted out.
"What about it?" Sam shrugged.
"I hate it, I can't do it." I admitted quietly, suddenly missing Fletcher right now.
"Yeah, me either." Dean joined in, looking a little pale.
"You're both joking, right?" Sam asked, crossing his arms.
"Do we look like we're joking? Why do you think I drive everywhere, Sam?" Dean snapped at his brother.
"Alright. I'll go." Sam shrugged, Dean and I stared at him in disbelief.
"You're kidding me, right?" I scoffed.
"No, I'll do this one on my own." Sam shook his head and shrugged nonchalantly.
"What are you, nuts?" Dean demanded, and I nodded in agreement.
"Dean's right, Sam. You said it yourself – the plane's gonna crash." I narrowed my eyes at him angrily.
"Right, we can all do it together, or I can do this one by myself: I'm not seeing a third option here." Sa shrugged again.
"Come on!" Dean protested, my head felt light as I looked at the boarding desk and then back to Sam. "Really?" Dean continued, I finally sagged and nodded once.
"Flight attendants, please cross-check luggage before departure." The intercom sounded all around us Sam lightly shoved me down the aisle and into the seat. When I was sat down I looked at my hands and saw they were shaking violently. "Both of you, just try to relax." Sam advised the two of us in soothing tones, I closed my eyes ad tried to beat off the image of the plane crashing onto Earth.
"Shut up, Sam." I murmured as I gripped the armrests of the seats, when the plane started taxiing down the runway my nails dug into the soft cushioned velvet, when the plane lifted off I tilted my head upwards and squeezed my eyes shut as we rose into the air, breathing deeply and trying to think of home.
When I finally opened my eyes I saw Dean was in a similar position to me, only he was humming a song, I recognised the first few bars of Some kind of monster by Metallica and couldn't help but crack a faint smile. "You're humming Metallica?" Sam asked his older brother in disparagement.
"Calms me down." Dean bit out.
"Look, both of you: I get you're nervous, all right? But you have to stay focused." Sam urged, I jerkily tilted my head to him and looked at him in fear, jumping a little as the plane rumbled.
"Relax, it's just a little turbulence, nothing to worry about, Steph." He spoke to me in hushed tones.
"How can I relax, Sam?" I demanded, terror shining in my eyes.
"You just need to chill out, ok? Breath. Because we have thirty two minutes and counting to track this thig down, or whoever it's possessing, anyway, and perform a full on exorcism." Sam explained, I took deep breaths and nodded. Beside Sam Dean leant forward and rolled his eyes at his brother.
"Yeah, on a crowded plane. That's gonna be easy." Dean scoffed and the fear crept back into my stomach again, making my hands shake again, Sam grabbed them and held them tightly and then looked at me with a smile.
"We'll take it one step at a time, alright?" He looked at me with a friendly smile, I nodded hastily, focusing on keeping my breathing under control and fighting the fear down. "Now, who's it possessing?" Sam asked, looking around at the passengers.
"It's usually gonna be somebody with some sort of weakness, you know, a chink in the armour that the demon can worm through. Somebody with an addiction or some sort of emotional distress." Dean shrugged as he surveyed the passengers on the other side of the aisle.
"Well, this is Amanda's first flight after the crash. If I were her, I'd be pretty messed up." I told them, Dean nodded slowly as his gaze flickered to one of the hostesses moving down the aisle towards us.
"Excuse me, are you Amanda?" Dean asked the hostess, she gave a smile and shook her head.
"No, I'm not." The woman shook her head, Dean gave a small smile and nodded.
"Oh, my mistake." He apologised and the hostess moved on, we all looked at the hostess who was at the front of the plane sorting through some cardboard coffee cups.
"Alright, well, that's got to be Amanda back there, so I'll go talk to her, and, uh, I'll get a read on her mental state." Dean shrugged and stood up from his seat, Sam grabbed his arm before he walked away.
"What if she's already possessed?" Sam asked him.
"There are ways to test that." Dean smiled and went into his rucksack under his seat, he unzipped it and rummaged in it before he bought out a glass bottle in the shape of the Virgin Mary, the bottle was filled with water. "I bought holy water." Dean said, anticipating my next question.
"Does that stuff work?" I asked, trusting my voice not to break in fear.
"You'd be surprised." Dean nodded and held up the bottle triumphantly.
"No." Sam shook his head and snatched the bottle from his brother and tucking it into the pocket of his hoodie. "I think we can go more subtle, if she's possessed she'll flinch at the name of God." He told him, Dean looked at him before nodding.
"Oh, nice." He said, impressed at his younger brother's intuition, he turned to go but Sam reached out and grabbed his arm again. "What?" He asked.
"Say it in Latin." Sam told him.
"I know." He rolled his eyes and walked away.
"What is it in Latin?" I asked the younger brother, watching Dean go.
"Uh, in Latin, it's Christo." Sam explained and I nodded, remembering the word for the future. The plane shook and I gasped, flattening myself into the seat and gripping to my armrests so hard my knuckles turned white.
"Hey, hey. It's ok, it's ok." Sam whispered to me, I nodded jerkily and breathed deeply and closing my eyes, when I opened them I saw Dean walking back over to us.
"Right, well, she's got to be the most well-adjusted person on the planet." Dean huffed and collapsed into his chair.
"You said Christo?" I asked him, he nodded.
"Yeah."
"And?" Sam leaned forward in his seat.
"There's no demon in her. There's no demon getting in her." Dean sighed.
"So, if it's on the plane, it can be anyone, anywhere." I sighed exasperatedly, I released my death gip on the armrests and relaxed my shoulders a little, the plane suddenly shook and I held my head in my hands and squeezed my eyes shut.
"Come on! That can't be normal!" I heard Dean groan.
"Guys, guys, it's just a turbulence, ok?" I heard Sam say but I shook my head and opened my eyes.
"Sam, this plane is going to crash, ok? How can I be calm at a time like this?" I bit out, gritting my teeth.
"Steph's right, Sammy. Quit treating us like we're frigging four." Dean snapped, hoping to make Sam Bck down, but he stood his ground and looked at the two of us calmly.
"You both need to calm down." Sam told us.
"Well, I'm sorry, I can't." Dean shook his head as the plane shook, I ran a hand through my hair and stood up.
"I think I'm gonna be sick." I told them and made my way down the aisle to the end of the plane, I made my way to the bathroom and cursed under my breath when I saw it was occupied and took deep breaths, my hand gripped one of the shelves containing food as I waited for the door to open. When it finally opened the co-pilot emerged and I forced a smile at him and walked into the bathroom, not bothering to close the door as I clutched the sides of the sink, breathing deeply. The co-pilot came back in and looked at me sympathetically.
"You a nervous flyer?" He asked in a kind voice.
"Yeah, it makes me kinda panicky." I laughed shakily and he gave me smile and closed the door, I frowned and the man suddenly lunged, I cried out I shock and fell backwards as the man clamped his hand around my mouth. I tried to fight him but the man was strong – unnaturally strong, his eyes turned black and my own eyes widened in surprise: well, I found the demon. Black smoked poured from the co-pilot's mouth and he dropped, his hand falling away from my mouth and I gasped for breath, but it was a bad move. The smoke shot towards my open mouth and poured down my throat, I fell to my knees and tried to cough it back up, but it was no use. I closed my eyes and the cold presence spread through me like a wildfire and the demon smiled my smile, getting up and inspecting me in the bathroom mirror. "Hi, I'm Stephanie." The demon practised and I screamed inside my head, urging my body to get rid of the demon plaguing my insides. The demon felt what I was trying to do and grinned evilly at the reflection in the mirror, my eyes going black. Without wanting my arms and legs to move, I moved out of the bathroom and back to Sam and Dean, they gave me a concerned look as I sat back down.
"Are you ok, Steph?" Sam asked and the demon smiled my smile, making me scream in rage as I was locked away in my head.
"I'm feeling much better, thank you," The demon replied, "I was thinking: maybe the demon's just not on the plane." It suggested, Sam and Dean frowned at me.
"You believe that?" Dean asked and the demon shrugged my shoulders.
"Well, I will if you will." I answered without wanting to.
"No, I don't think so – Amanda's on this plane and she's the target." Sam shook his head, "I think we should check again." He told us and Dean and the demon nodded in agreement. We stood up and the demon followed Sam and Dean as they used the EMF meter to try and detect the demon, we made it to the bathroom and the EMF meter beeped once, the co-pilot exited the bathroom rubbing his head and Dean called out to him.
"Christo." Dean called, the demon took a sharp intake of breath but Sam and Dean didn't notice, inside I was pounding in my head, the demon locked eyes with the co-pilot and changed the colour of it's eyes. The man gasped and his eyes widened, in front of the demon Sam and Dean exchanged a look and the demon changed it's eyes back to my ones.
"I think we got our guy." The demon spoke up, Dean looked at me and nodded thoughtfully, switching the EMF meter off. We made our way to the other end of the aircraft where Amanda was stood.
"She's not gonna believe this." Sam sighed as we neared her, the demon looked at him and tapped my wrist.
"We only have twelve minutes." The demon reminded him and then turned back and smiled, making me rage inside myself.
"Oh, hi. Flight's not too bumpy for you, I hope." Amanda smiled at Dean.
"Actually, that's kind of what we need to talk to you about." Dean smiled back and spoke in a slightly hushed tone.
"Um, okay. What can I do for you?" Her eyes flickered to the demon as Sam closed the curtain to obscure the passengers from the four of us.
"All right, this is gonna sound nuts, but we just don't have time for the whole 'the truth is out there' speech right now." Dean told her off handedly.
"Look, we know you were on flight 2485." The demon told her, Amanda's smiled disappeared and she looked at us guardedly.
"Who are you guys?" She demanded.
"Now, we've spoken to some over survivors. We know something brought down that plane and it wasn't a mechanical failure." Sam ignored her previous question.
"We need your help because we need to stop it from happening again here, now." The demon told her.
"I'm sorry, I – I'm very busy. I have to go back." Amanda stuttered and tried to brush past Dean, but he reached out and grabbed her arm.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a second, I'm not gonna hurt you, ok? But listen to me, uh... The pilot in 2485: Chuck Lambert – he's dead." Dean told her, and Amanda faltered.
"Wait. What? Chuck is dead?" She exclaimed.
"He died in a plane crash. Now, that's two plane crashes in two months. That doesn't strike you as strange?" The demon told her, I could feel it was fighting down a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.
"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 abruptly cut her off.
"Amanda, you have to believe us." Dean urged her, the stewardess looked at the three of us in turn, then bit her lip.
"On... On 2485, there was this man. He – He had these eyes." Amanda stammered.
"Yes, that's exactly what we're talking about." The demon gave Amanda a knowing smile.
"I don't understand, what are you asking me to do?" Amanda asked, confused.
"The co-pilot, we need you to bring him back here." Dean told her.
"Why? What does he have to do with anything?" The stewardess questioned.
"No time to explain, we just need to talk to him. Ok?" I told the woman, and lightly shoved her towards the curtain, she took two steps before turning back to us again.
"How am I supposed to go in the cockpit and get the co-pilot-."
"Do whatever it takes. Tell him there's something broken back here, whatever will get him out of that cockpit." Sam cut her off but Amanda didn't look so sure.
"Do you know that I could lose my job if you-."
"Okay, well you're gonna lose a lot more if you don't help us out." The demon cut her off this time, I watched as Amanda hesitated and nodded once before leaving, and I began fighting in my mind at the demon, but it was no use: being possessed by a remnant was easier than being possessed by a demon from hell. We peeked through the curtain and saw Amanda leading the co-pilot towards us, Sam pulled out the holy water and Dean pulled out his Dad's journal and handed it to Sam, the demon eyed the journal and water and I felt the demon's distress at the sight of the objects. The demon then eyed the emergency exit and smiled to itself, and I began pounding away in my mind, screaming for Sam and Dean to help. The plane suddenly shook and Dean made a face and clung on to the nearby shelves, Sam was looking at me closely.
"Steph, are you ok?" He asked and the demon looked at him strangely and then smiled.
"Of course I am, why wouldn't I be?" The demon replied, Sam and Dean looked at eachother and then back at the demon.
"Are you sure?" Dean asked, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes.
"Yeah, I'm sure." The demon smiled wider.
"Uh, wow, you seem... fine." Sam looked at the demon in shock and the demon nodded. In my head I was hammering at the corners of my mind, trying to break the hold and get out. Sam and Dean looked at eachother and the demon frowned and I felt it's confusion, the co-pilot entered through the curtain and frowned.
"Yeah, what's the problem?" He asked, but he didn't get an answer. Dean swung round and punched him on the nose, knocking the co-pilot to the floor, the demon smiled as Dean pinned him down and put duct tape over his mouth.
"Wait, what are you doing? You said you were just gonna talk to him." Amanda cried out in a whisper as she came in through the curtain, Dean splashes holy water on the co-pilot but stopped when nothing happened and he hesitated, holding up his hand.
"Sam, wait! It's not him, he's not possessed." Dean looked at his brother in confusion, Sam looked back at his brother and nodded.
"You're right." He agreed and turned to the demon, "Christo." He said to it and the demon tried, it tried so hard, not to flinch but it jumped all the same. Sam made a move towards the demon but it held up it's hand and splayed it, the air shimmered and Sam flew off his feet and crashed into the wall.
"I must admit, I'm going to regret sacrificing this body to kill everybody else, she's strong, pretty, in perfect health and all this magic that she has to boot." The demon smiled and it's eyes turned black, it held it's hands out and clicked it's fingers and flames appeared. "All this power, literally at the girl's fingertips." The demon sighed happily as it let the flames die out and moved over to the emergency exit and gripped the handle, then faked a look of regret. "Killing poor, not so innocent little Valkyrie will definitely been the most regrettable thing I've ever done, but then again..." The demon trailed off and shrugged and gripped the handle tighter, preparing to wrench it open.
"Her eyes! Oh my God, what's wrong with her?" Amanda exclaimed when she came back in to check on us, her eyes wide and staring at the demon.
"She's possessed and we need to exorcise her." Dean said, not taking his eyes off the demon, the demon laughed and changed the eyes from black to normal, wide eyed and scared.
"Dean you wouldn't hurt me, would you?" The demon mocked, and then chuckled.
"I wouldn't hurt Stephanie," Dean corrected, picking up the holy water bottle Sam had dropped, "But you, however..." He trailed off and threw it over the demon, it screamed my scream and covered its face in its hands when the water touched it, sizzling and burning where it hit, when the demon opened its eyes Dean was ready to put duct tape over the demon's mouth and in it to the floor. "Now, Sam!" He called as the demon writhed and struggled below him, above him, Sam had stood up and was holding the journal out. He began chanting in Latin and inside the demon writhed, the cold presence strained and curled inside me, the demon thrashed harder and Dean narrowed his eyes and tightened his grip on my wrists "Hurry up, Sam. I don't know how much I can hold her." Dean told his brother and behind him Sam started speaking faster, the words swirled around my head and rung in my ears. The demon fought harder and suddenly broke free of Dean's grip, and used its hand to whip the shadows from the corners of the room, the tendrils whipped at Dean and he fell back, "What the hell was that?!" He yelled as he rolled out of harms way from the sinister lashes, the demon smirked as it stood up and studied the black ring on my finger.
"Hmmm... Valkyrie's memories and thoughts tell me that adept magic she 'dabbles' in, is necromancy. Kinda handy." The demon smirked again and then looked over at Sam, "I know what happened to your girlfriend. I'm guessing she must have died screaming! And let's just say even now..." The demon leant closer to Sam and smiled a knowing smile, "She's burning." The demon whispered, Dean's hands wrapped around its waist and the demon allowed itself to be dragged away from Sam, who now sat there in silence. Dean slammed the demon in the wall, a look of fury on his face, "You're gonna hit Stephanie, Dean. Really?" The demon smirked as Dean faltered, and shoved him away easily. "You know," It said as it walked to the middle of the room, "It's funny, even now Stephanie is trying so hard, locked away in the dark recesses of her own mind, to break free. But I'm stronger than her, and I know her better than anyone right now: I have access to her memories. Thoughts, feelings – you name it..." The demon trailed off and frowned slightly, "And looking through her mind, delving deep down into her head," The demon smiled, "There's someone else in here, and she wants to come out and play... although Stephanie's warning me, even after I took her body over she's still warning me..." The demon trailed off again and Sam and Dean exchanged a confused glance, "Hmmm, what could possibly be so bad that Stephanie would rather have little old me possess her than let the other person in her head surface?" The demon muttered to itself, a look of puzzlement etched onto it's face, "So, come on Stephanie, tell me who it is... who's waiting in the dark?" The demon murmured as it tunnelled deeper into Stephanie's mind.
"Me." Darquesse said and the demon cried out and fell back, clutching it's head. Sam and Dean jumped to it and picked up the journal and began chanting in Latin, Darquesse looked up and smirked, then drifted away, allowing the demon to re-emerge. Another thirty seconds more and the exorcism purged the demon from my mind and body, the cold shadow that had manifested and held me in it's clutches had gone, leaving me gasping on the floor.
"It's gone it's gone it's gone." I breathed, relief washing over me as I flexed my fingers, glad that I was the one doing it.
"Stephanie! Are you alright?" Sam ran over and knelt beside me, I looked up and nodded once.
"Where'd it go?" I asked.
"It's in the plane. Hurry up, guys, we gotta finish it." Dean told us before he rushed out the curtain, Sam helped me up and grabbed the journal before we were both in close pursuit as we entered the main area of the plane it suddenly dipped violently, sending Dean, Sam and I shooting down the aisle and slamming into various objects, I groaned and peeled myself away from the wall, but didn't attempt to step away from it. It was happening: the plane was groaning and passengers were screaming in their seats as the lights flickered, we were going to crash. I glimpsed Sam among the throng of people and my eyes looked down to see what he was trying to do, I splayed my hand and the book shot up and into his hand, he looked over at me and I smiled, he nodded and opened the book, chanting the rest of the Latin script, I noticed Dean on the opposite wall with his eyes screwed shut and a petrified look on his face. The plane suddenly surged as an electrical charge swept through it, the lights stopped flickering and the plane levelled out. The passengers quietened down and the stewardesses came forward asking if everyone was ok, I noticed Sam shutting the book and then staring down at the front cover, his expression unreadable.
We were one of the first to disembark once the plane had touched down, we were stood a little way away watching paramedics and security agents check on everyone, Amanda was being interviewed by someone and the co-pilot was in a wheelchair with a bloodied nose and a blanket draped over him. Amanda caught our eyes and mouthed Thank you to us, we nodded and smiled at her. "Let's get out of here." Dean told us and we turned and walked away.
"Never again." I moaned and rubbed my head against a headache, Dean looked over at me and gave me a concerned look.
"You're sure you're ok?" He asked me for the millionth time, I rolled my eyes and nodded.
"I'm a big girl, if I can't handle possession then I just won't make it in the world." I joked, Dean scoffed and shook his head.
"Mmm-hmm." He chuckled and then looked at his younger brother, "What about you, Sam?" He asked, Sam stopped walking altogether and turned to us.
"It knew about Jessica." Sam whispered, and I couldn't help but feel guilty: the demon had taunted Sam in the cruellest of ways using my face, it must be hard for him to adjust from seeing me as a friend then a foe.
"Sam, these things, they – they read minds. They lie, alright? That's all it was." Dean reassured his brother.
"Yeah." Sam muttered, although he didn't sound too convinced.
"Come on. You look like you could both use a bed to fall in." Dean smiled and we continued our walk to the exit.
"Nobody knows what you guys did, but I do. A lot of people could have been killed." Jerry smiled at us, he had called us into his office the day following the exorcism, and we had reluctantly agreed. "Your Dad's gonna be real proud." Jerry continued, shaking our hands vigorously.
"We'll see you around, Jerry." Sam smiled politely at him.
"You know, Jerry." Dean begun.
"Yeah?" The balding man asked.
"I meant to ask you, how did you get my cellphone number, anyway? I've only had it for, like, six months." Dean asked.
"Your Dad gave it to me." Jerry grinned and we all did a double-take.
"What?" I asked, shocked.
"When did you talk to him?" Sam's question followed closely behind mine.
"I mean, I didn't exactly talk to him, but I called his number. His voice message said to give you a call." Jerry shrugged his explanation and then smiled again, "Thanks again, guys." He waved before we left his office in stunned silence.
"This doesn't make any sense. I mean, I've called Dad's number, like, fifty times. It's been out of service." Sam explained, we were leaning on the bonnet of Dean's car outside Jerry's building. Dean sighed and pulled out his phone and thumbed the keypad for a few moments, then held it out so we could hear it.
"This is John Winchester. I can;t be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son, Dean: 785-555-0179. He can help." A gruff male voice sounded before it cut off, we were silent for a few moments before Sam stalked to the passenger side of the car and slammed it as he got in.
"Poor guy." I murmured, before jumping off the bonnet and walking to the door.
"Steph?" Dean called and I turned and looked at him, squinting in the daylight.
"Yeah?" I asked.
"What's the deal with the necromancy?" He asked and I paused and looked at the cold ring on my finger.
"You'd be surprised how easy I picked it up, Dean. I said I dabbled, I didn't say I dabbled in anything particularly appealing." I told him, before getting into the car and sitting in it without another word.
Author's Note: Sorry This one's a little late! My work got the best of me this week I guess. I'll upload the next chapter when I get 20 reviews, so comment if you want more!