Chapter 7

Dean woke up to a ringing sound in his ears. He fumbled around the bed for his cell phone but couldn't find it.

"Hello?" He heard Sam answer, so it must have been Sam's phone ringing. Dean looked over at his brother, wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep.

"Calm down Emma what's going on?" he said his voice worried and panicked. Dean sat up in the bed. Sam's face began to go white, his eyes shifting from side to side as he listened. Dean could hear Emma frantic on the other end, unable to understand her. Both Sam and Dean got out of bed, threw on their jeans and pulled on a shirt in unison, Sam's phone still glued to his ear.

"Calm down we're on our way." He said, throwing his phone is his pocket and looking over to Dean.

"Greg is attacking her." Fear was etched all over Sam's face, and they both ran to the car and got in.

The minutes it took to reach her house felt like hours. Dean sped down the streets and brought the car to a screeching halt up on the side walk. Sam exited the car faster than Dean could but the car in park, and ran around to the trunk for weapons.

It wasn't often they needed guns against people, they usually had them filled with rock salt or iron pellets. Sam grabbed his gun, switched out the magazine with rock salt in it for one with real hollow point bullets, and snapped the magazine into the butt of the gun. Dean did the same trying to keep up with Sam, and followed him as Sam bounded up the steps to their front door.

Sam stood at the front door cautiously. Slowly opening the door handle with one hand, his gun drawn in the other. It was rare that Sammy lead the charge, but Dean stood back and allowed his brother to lead. Sam walked into the house, his gun out in front of him and Dean followed.

The house was eerie in the dark, the ornate furniture looking strange in the shadows of the moon that shined through the window. Large couches could easily hide a man behind them, and Dean prayed they still had the element of surprise. Sam quickly opened a coat closet near the door, flipping on the flashlight he had grabbed from the car. Nothing sat in the bottom of the close but a cellphone, and Sam picked it up.

"She said she was hiding in here." He said quietly to Dean. A creek sounded through the house as the top floorboards were stepped on, and Dean nodded towards the stairs. Sam led them quietly up the stairs, guns in front of them ready to shoot. A voice startled them as he began to speak, and they stopped dead in their tracks.

"Emma, you see, it's not just about money…" he said, his voice evil and meticulous. Sam continued up the stairs until they were right outside the master bedroom and could visibly see Emma strapped to a chair, her mouth covered with duct tape. Emma saw them through the open door, her eyes widening slightly, quickly looking back at Greg. He waved a syringe in his hand, twirling it in his fingers as he spoke.

"Kendra told me about your latest fling. The man you loved before me. How amazing you thought he was; how much you wished to throw away your life and run away with him. How you slept with him within days of meeting him. She even described him as tall, muscular build, with broad shoulders and long brown hair. Wouldn't you say that might match the description of the man who came to our door today?" He asked, setting the needle and syringe on the night stand before picking up a knife that sat there. Sam flinched but Dean grabbed him. They were in no position to go running in while he had her by knife point. He was too close to her to shoot.

Emma cried quietly as she watched Greg's every move, her hands trembling against the chair. Sam watched as droplets of blood trickled down her neck from where he must have cut her before they arrived. Greg grabbed the syringe from the dresser and smiled and evil smile. Emma fought hard against the chair and cried out as he inched closer and closer to her with the needle.

A cold breeze sent all of the hairs on the back of their necks on end, and Dean couldn't help but grin a little. "Greg." Clara yelled, startling him enough to drop the knife. Clara stood in the doorway, the glow of her spirit almost blinding them as they looked through her to Greg. Greg was almost as white as she was, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. Clara waved her hand, sending Greg into the wall behind him, the wind knocking from his lungs as he hit the floor. Emma stared stunned at her sister her eyes watery and blue. Clara smiled at her sister, placed a reassuring hand on her face and kissed her on the head. Greg attempted to sit up but Clara waved her hand again, sending him flying to the other end of the room, slamming him into the wall. This time she held him there, her arm stretched out in front of her. The lights flickered on and off before bursting every light bulb, sending sparks throughout the house.

"Clara I loved you," Greg said, his arms pressed tightly to the wall, his voice hoarse from the choke hold Clara had on him.

"You loved me? That is magical Greg. You beat me, you beat me every day for 2 years and then you killed me. You don't know what love is." She said, and revengeful tone in her voice. Greg's eyes got wider and wider, as if he'd never seen her stand up to him before. Maybe she hadn't, maybe this was the first time Clara had fought back. Sam tucked his gun into the back of his jeans and crawled over to Emma, slowly untying her. Greg's eyes followed him, a fire of hatred burning behind them. Clara laughed bringing Greg's attention back to her.

"You hate him don't you Greg. You hate him because he; a man who didn't even have a soul could love a woman better than you. You are pathetic and you deserve to be where I stand, you deserve to drown in your own blood." She yelled, his face turning blue as her spirit tightened the hold she had on him. He grasped at his throat, gasping and choking on air.

Dean stood behind her, not sure how she was going to proceed. The look in her eyes was cold and calculated, pain running like a blue river through them.

"Clara…" Dean said, apprehensive to approach her. She turned her head to him, a glimpse of the kind woman he knew flashed in her eyes, but in seconds it was gone. She looked back at Greg as he held tightly to his throat and grinned.

"You can't kill him like this Clara, Emma will be blamed for his murder." Dean said, placing a hand on her shoulder, only for it to float through her body. The gesture was enough, Clara let go of Greg and he fell to the floor, coughing and gasping for air. She turned to Dean, her spirit dimming as her anger subsided.

"This isn't you Clara. You're not a murderer." Dean said, wanting to make sure when she did leave this plane, she ended up in a good place. Clara nodded, her eyes filled with tears. She turned to her sister and walked towards her, wanting to hug her with everything in her body.

"So it is true, Greg murdered you." Emma said her face still in shock. Clara nodded, and smiled at her sister.

"I will always take care of you Emmie." She said, as she placed a cold hand on Emma's face. Emma shivered at her touch but didn't pull away.

Dean bowed his head and closed his eyes. "Need a little help Cas…" He said, and within seconds Castiel appeared in front of him. He looked around the room and then at Greg and back to Dean.

"What do you need?" he asked, his face stern and emotionless.

"We're kind of in uncharted territory here, we actually need you to kill a human off, naturally of course." Dean said. Cas looked at him and tilted his head.

"Greg Jennings?" he asked pointing to Greg who was still sprawled out on the floor.

"Yeah that would be him." Dean said with a playful tone. Cas looked over at the women in the corner of the room. Both stared in disbelief in his direction, one of them alive and one of them dead. Sam gave him a sheepish smile.

"He has a multitude of sins." Cas replies, and with a wave of his hand he floats Greg onto the bed and walks slowly over to him. Greg struggles, bound to the bed by some unseen force and Cas places a firm hand on his forehead until he stops moving.

"He's had a heart attack." Cas says, no emotion on his face. Dean feels relieved, while both women look a mixture of horrified and confused. Sam rubs Emma's shoulder reassuringly, and she gingerly raises her hand to hold his.

"My name is Castiel, I am an angel." He explained, and both women looked at each other in shock. Dean couldn't help but smiled at Cas, there hadn't been a time where he hadn't come through for him. Dean hugged him roughly and Cas lightly hugged back.

"I can help her cross over." Cas said pointing to Clara. Clara smiled a little.

"How? We torched her bones last year and somehow she's still here," Sam asks, his hands wrapped tightly around Emma's.

"Emma do you still have your sister's locket?" Cas asks, and Emma looks at him shocked at how he knew her name. She nodded lightly and left the room to go get it. She returned a few moments later and handed the locket to Cas. He investigated the chain and plucked out a single hair that was wrapped around the clasp. Dean's heart sank, he would really never see her again. Cas noticed the look on his friend's face and placed the hair in the pocket of his trench coat.

"Take your time, I will be outside when you need me." He said, as he walked towards the door. He looked back at Clara floating in the corner and snapped his fingers.