Sam, Dean, and I were in a diner, Sam was on the phone with Bobby, I was on the laptop, and Dean was beating the jukebox trying to get it to work. "No, no, no, you're right, it's definitely weird. ...Okay, Bobby, thanks." Sam said before hanging up. Dean sat down before I had the chance to ask what was going on. Bobby didn't call too often unless it was a case, to check on us, or to help us with stopping the seals from breaking. "What's up?" he asked. Sam took the laptop and began typing. I assumed he was checking the information Bobby had gave him so I didn't complain about him taking it. "Bobby found something in Wyoming," Sam told him. "A job?" Dean asked before taking a bite of his burger. I picked up a fry and munched on it waiting on Sam to answer. "Maybe. Small town, no one's died in the past week and a half," Sam informed us. I frowned wondering how that's possible, but not seeing it as a bad thing. "Isn't that a good thing?" I asked. "Yeah, is that so unusual?" Dean asked and I had to give him a look. How is it normal? People die on almost a daily basis whether it's from illness, an accident, or murder. "Well, it's how they're not dying," Sam told us confusing me.
"What do you mean babe?" I asked. He looked up at us for a moment and said, "One guy with terminal cancer strolls right out of hospice. Another guy gets capped by a mugger and walks away without a scratch," Sam explains. I cocked my head to the side not entirely sure what to say. "Capped in the ass?" Dean asked. Sam then turned the laptop toward me. The laptop browser had two tabs open to the Greybull Gazette; the top tab had an article with the headline "Shooting victim walks away unharmed" and the subheading "Man miraculously survives after direct shot to heart". The first paragraph reads "Police and medical authorities are struggling for an explanation as to why local resident James Jenkins was able to walk away from a point-blank shooting incident. After leaving Bison Bud's Bar, Mr. Jenkins and friend Pete Hensley were confronted by a mugger in a nearby alley. After a brief altercation, the mugger fired a shot from a 9mm Automatic, hitting Jenkins [directly in the heart...]"
"Hot damn that's crazy," I said. Sam nods his head and tells Dean, "Police say Mr. Jenkins was shot in the heart at point-blank range by a nine-millimeter," Dean kept eating, but gave me a look saying he understood my comment. "And he's not a doughnut?" Dean asked with a mouthful of food. "So gross," I mumbled, but my comment was ignored. "Locals are saying it's a miracle," Sam said. I could understand why they would think it was a miracle, however, in our line of work those didn't happen without something behind it. "Okay," Dean said. "It's got to be something nasty, right? I mean, people making deals or something," Sam said and I had to agree.
Dean looked like he's considering it. "You think?" he asked. "What else would it be?" Sam asked. I could feel the upset and tension beginning to grow and I didn't understand how Sam didn't. "I don't know," Dean replied. Sam began packing the laptop up and replied, "Alright. Get that to go," talking about our food. I looked back and forth between the two as Dean didn't move. "Come on," Sam said standing up and grabbing the bag. Dean didn't budge, just kept eating. Sam swung the bag up on his shoulder and looked at me confused. I shook my head knowing what was about to happen. "What?" Sam asked. Dean glanced up at him and then back down. "Sure you want me going with you?" Dean asked. I inwardly groaned at the question. "Why wouldn't I?" Sam asked even more confused. I could feel Dean's hurt and anger as he replied, "I don't want to be holding you back or nothing." I shook my head sick and tired of this shit. I was able to get past the fact Sam had kept secrets from me and had been talking to Ruby; the demon slut I wanted dead more than anything in this world, so why couldn't Dean. "Dude, I've told you a hundred times, that was the siren talking, not me. Can we get passed this?" Sam asked. Dean put his burger down, but I could still tell he was hurt. "Yeah, we're past it," Dean said as he brushes his hands off.
I waited till we were outside before saying something as to not draw attention to us. "Alright this crap between you two needs to stop. Dean I get that Sam hurt you saying you were holding him back. He doesn't actually think you are holding him back. In all honesty he looks up to you. He was afraid of how disappointed you would be if you found out. The things the siren made him say are the opposite of how he truly feels. So quit feeling sorry for yourself please it's not good for any of us. And Sam you need to start being more honest with your brother because this tension, hurt, and anger between you guys is killing me." I replied. Sam and Dean both looked at me surprised. I very rarely called them out on their crap, but the emotions were eating me alive. It was bad enough dealing with Dean's pain from going to hell and Sam's worry and revenge mindset; I couldn't take anymore. "You know you're right. Our emotions are piling over onto you and that's not fair. I should have told Dean more than just sorry it was the siren." Sam said hugging me. I could feel the tension slowly ebbing between them and I was grateful. We got in the Impala so we could go check out the case.
Our first stop was Jim's to see if he had made a deal; had to be a reason he was still alive. "Now, you three said you were bloggers?" Jim asked. Sometimes it took everything in me not to laugh at the covers we were using. "Yes, sir. Floored by the Lord dot com," Sam replied. "All of God's glory fit to blog," Dean added with a grin. He was just as amused by our cover as I was. Only thing I wasn't amused by was the outfit I was wearing. I normally wore hip hugging jeans, a tank top, plunging v-neck, or band t-shirt and boots; right now I was in a light blue skirt that came to my shins, a white dress shirt overtop a white spaghetti strap and bra with some tan wedge heels. "Um. Some of the people around town are saying what happened to you was a miracle," Sam told Jim. His answer would hopefully help us figure out what was going on. "It was. Plain as day," Jim replied. I was still skeptical that, that was the case and so were the boys.
"How can you be so sure?" Sam asked. "How else do you explain it? The doctors can't. There's a bullet in my heart, and it's pumping like a piston," Jim said. I could tell he really did feel it was a miracle and I wished that was the case, but I knew it wasn't. "Well, how do you explain it?" Dean asked. In that moment I could feel the regret coming from him as he hesitated and looked at his daughter. "Hey it's okay we aren't going to judge you. That's not our job. Our job is to spread the truth about what God can do. And we need the full story if we are to do that," I told him with a small smile. "Look, honestly. I was nobody's saint—not exactly father of the year, either," he started. My dad hadn't been perfect either, but what I wouldn't give for another moment with him and my mom. "But when that guy shot me and I didn't bleed a drop? I just knew the Lord was giving me a second chance," Jim finished after a moment's pause.
I could feel Dean's and Sam's disbelief and who could blame them after everything we saw and what the angels had done. I had once been a big believer, but then I lost my parents, my husband, and had met the angels; hard to believe God cared after that. "That so?" Dean asked. Jim looked at us with a smile and said, "I had this feeling—like angels were watching over me." Yeah because they are so good at that. "I wouldn't expect you guys to understand," he told us. I believed in angels and I could understand why he felt that way because at one point in time I did, but now I just knew it wasn't the case; angels were heartless. "Well, we'll just have to try," Dean said at the same time I said, "I do." Sam glanced at me with a smile knowing I did understand. "You wouldn't have happened to have swung by a crossroads in the past week or so?" Sam asked and I knew we were going to have to leave soon. "No," Jim replied in confusion. "Maybe you met someone? With black eyes? Or red?" Sam asked. You know all perfectly normal questions. Jim leaned forward with a funny look on his face. "Who'd you guys say you were again?" he asked. Yep our cover was officially blown. Sam, Dean, and I looked at one another before Dean said, "Never mind. Thank you for your time." He then got up and Sam and I followed.
I walked out of the hotel bathroom back in my normal clothes when Sam walked into the hotel room. "Hey," he said. He sat down in the chair opposite Dean and I sat in his lap causing Dean to roll his eyes. "Anything?" he asked. "That cancer survivor? He was clinically dead, his wife pulled the plug, and now he's taking her out for their twentieth anniversary," Sam replied. I knew it would never happen in our lives, but I couldn't help to think about Sam and me celebrating our twentieth anniversary. "Any sign of a deal?" Dean asked. "No. What about you? Found anyone dying around here?" Sam asked in return. I shook my head no as Dean said, "Not since Cole Griffith." I frowned thinking about the poor boy. "He dropped ten days ago. It was the last death I could find," Dean said. Sam wrapped his arm around me and rested his hand on my lap playing with the hem of my shirt. I could tell he was thinking about what we could be dealing with.
"So, what are you thinking?" Sam asked. I looked at Dean in amazement as he said, "Eh, maybe it is what the people say it is." Sam scoffed and pulled the laptop towards us. "Miracles? Dean, our experience, when do miracles just happen?" Sam asked. I looked at Dean with a sad smile. "I wish miracles existed Dean, but we know they don't," I said. We all wanted it to be was miracles, but none of us truly believed it; not even Dean despite what he said. "Well, there's no deals. There's, uh, no skeevy faith healers. I mean, these souls just ain't getting dragged into the light." Dean said as he poured a cup of coffee. Sam and I both started thinking the same thing, no reaper. "Maybe 'cause there's no one around to carry them," Sam said. It was the only explanation as to what was happening. "What do you mean?" Dean asked as he came back over to us.
"Just what he said Dean. There's no reaper to carry the souls," I said. Sam nodded and said, "Exactly what Cassidy said, grim reapers—that's what they do, right? Schlep souls? So, if death ain't in town," Sam trailed off. Dean picked up our train of thought saying, "Then nobody's dying. So what? The local reaper's on strike? Playing the back nine? I don't know, guys." He then took a drink of his coffee. It sounded crazy, I know, but what other reason would there be for people who should be dead still being alive. "Well, then, let's talk to somebody who might," Sam suggested. I turned and looked at him wondering what he was planning. "Well, last I checked, huggy bear ain't available," Dean said. "No, dude, the kid." Sam said. Seems we're going to do a séance. Funny how growing up if someone said that I would have thought them crazy; amazing how my life has changed. "The kid? The kid's a doornail," Dean replied not catching on. "Exactly. Look, if he was the last person to die around here, then maybe he's seen something. We should talk to him." Sam said. Dean looked at him with a raised brow. "I love how matter-of-fact you are about that. Strange lives." He said. "Ain't that the truth," I said. Dean made a sound of agreement before drinking more coffee.
Sam, Dean, and I went to the graveyard were the kid was buried. His gravestone read "Beloved Son Cole Griffith 1997 – 2009 Forever In Our Memories" Sam had arranged five candles on a cloth with a pentacle on it. I stood to the side of the headstone out of the way, while Sam laid a bundle of sticks between the candles and Dean sat on the headstone reading his dad's journal. "You sure this is gonna work?" Dean asked. Sam looked up at us. "No. But if his spirit's around, this should smoke him out," Sam said. He then poured some thing into a bowl and Dean closed the journal. I could tell he was upset, I wasn't completely sure what about, but I had an idea. "What?" Sam asked him. I looked to Dean wondering the same. "This job is jacked, that's what," he said. I looked to Sam knowing he was confused, but I was now sure my idea was right. "How so?" he asked. "You want me to gank a monster or torch a corpse, hey, let's light it up, right? But this? If we fix whatever this is, people are gonna start dropping dead. Good people," Dean explained. I understood what he was saying. Our job was to save lives and this one would end them; it was definitely twisted.
"Look, I don't want them to die, either, Dean, but there's a natural order." Sam said standing up. I looked at Sam like he had grown a second head; what in our lives was natural? "You're kidding, right?" Dean asked. "What?" Sam asked in return. "Our lives aren't exactly normal Sam," I said causing Dean to nod his head. "Yeah, you don't see the irony in that? I mean, you and me, we're like the poster boys of the unnatural order. All we do is ditch death." Dean said. I hadn't had to ditch death YET, but with our lives it was bound to happen. "Yeah, but the normal rules don't really apply to us, do they?" Sam asked. I opened my mouth to say something, but Dean beat me to it, "We're no different than anybody else." I gave him the same look I had gave Sam earlier. "I'm infected with demon blood. You've been to hell. Cassidy is an empath," Sam defends his earlier remark. Dean looks away from us clearly upset. "Look, I know you want to think of yourself as Joe the Plumber, Dean, but you're not. Neither am I. The sooner you accept that, the better off you're gonna be." Sam told him. I gave him a pointed look upset with him. What was wrong with us believing we were normal if it got us through the day?
"Ah, Joe the Plumber was a douche." Dean said looking up. I gave him a smile letting him know I understood how he was feeling. "You gonna help me finish this?" Sam asked. Dean stood up, but before we could do anything a voice yelled, "Hey!" We looked toward the voice and saw a man carrying a flashlight; shit. "What are you doing here?" he asked. Sam glanced at Dean and me. "Uh…Just take it easy" he said. The man was looking at us all like we were crazy, but something felt off about him. "What the hell is this?" the man asked. I tried to think of something to say and couldn't because I was too busy trying to place where I knew that feeling from. "Okay, this—this—this is not what it looks like," Dean said giving a nervous laugh. "Really? Cause it looks like devil worship," the man replied. "What? No! No, this is not devil worship. This—This is—this—this is, uh— I don't have a good answer," Dean said giving up.
I smacked my forward shaking my head. "We're leaving," Sam told him as he grabbed my hand. "You're not going anywhere," he started. Sam frowned as the man stepped toward us. "Ever again. Sam," he finished. In that moment right before Dean said, "Alastair." I remembered where I knew the feeling from. "I thought you got deep fried, extra-crispy," Dean said. I could feel Alastair's amusement as he said, "Nah. Just the pediatrician I was riding. His wife's still looking for him. It's hilarious. Anyway," he then looked at Sam who was fuming. His anger began to mix with my own as I stared Alastair down. "No time to chat. Got a hot date with death." He said before flicking his wrist sending Dean flying. "Dean!" Sam yelled. I went to take a step toward him as Alastair lifted his hand to send Sam and me flying. It for some reason didn't work and I was confused while Sam just smirked. "You're stronger, Sam. You've been soloflexing with your little slut? And you I guess the longer your around these boys the more your angelic powers grow," Alastair said. I was so flabbergasted by what he said I didn't even hear Sam as he replied, "You have no idea." He then flicked his own hand to fling Alastair, but before he could exorcise him, he fled the body he was in.