Okay, so, as you can see...part of this chapter is in Dean's POV. I don't know, for some reason I keep getting his voice in my head. LOL

Anyway, I don't own any of the actual characters from the show. It's Eric's world, I'm just playing with it.

Oh, and the lyrics in this chapter aren't mine. They're from Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

Red Sky at Morning
Part Two

(Dean's POV)

God, Bela was such a bitch. Screwing people over, getting my car towed, me having to pay to get it out of a lot. It cost almost a hundred-and-twenty dollars.

The walk to the lot had been silent. Not one of those comfortable silences that Aly and I were known for, either. It was one of those tense, angry silences that Sam was good at lately. Ever since Aly had taken to sleeping in her own room Sam had pretty much withdrawn and, hell, I got it, but…it was beginning to bug me.

Also, I didn't appreciate him treating Aly the way he was. If they'd just been messing around, it would've been different, but he was actually angry with her. I got that he was pissed that I was dying, and that I was doing it for him made it even worse for him, but he needed to put himself in her place. Which was really awkward, I had to admit, because he was my brother, but the point was…he wasn't the only one suffering from this. He wasn't the only one I'd have to leave behind when I died. I'd be leaving her behind, too. Aly, who was the best thing that had ever been mine.

I almost had to do a double-take in my head when I thought that because wow: big revelation there. The best thing that had ever been mine. Wow. I'd never realized I'd felt that way before now. I was slow when it came to things like that, so sue me! But it was true. She was…had chosen to be mine.

Chosen. It wasn't like with Sam; he was family, so he was mine by default. But Aly…she was a little jaded now, but she was still Aly. Sweet and compassionate Aly. And she had treated me like…well, like I was everything. She'd done for me what I'd done for Sam his whole life. She'd been through a lot and she'd stayed herself for me; she did specific things to keep me happy and now I was just totally abandoning her.

I was a moron. But…I knew that for Sammy…if I could go back to that day…I'd still do the same thing. Like I said, I was a moron.

Back at the motel I made sure Aly got in her room okay and then went to mine and Sam's. Sam was, of course, researching that ship thing. He was going through the pictures from the library and trying to ID them on the laptop as he went. I sat across from him. He was on one bed, I was on the other.

"Hey, uh, can I talk to you?" I asked and he looked up expectantly.

"Sure." He shrugged. "About what?"

"Aly. Lay off her, Sam. Stop giving her a hard time."

His eyes hardened and I could begin to feel the threads of an argument coming on.

"I'm trying to get her to help me."

"Help you help me," I said. "I know. She said no and now you're mad. I don't care about that. What I care about is that she's hurting, and you treating her that way isn't helping."

"But she's…she could save you."

And that was it right there. If there was any way of saving my ass, Aly was probably the one who could end up doing it.

"Yeah, but she'd end up killing you. Don't put her in that position, Sam. It's not fair, and I don't want her doing anything, anyway."

"Why not?" Sam stood up, frustrated. "You're gonna die, Dean! You're gonna die, so I'm sorry if I can't take care of her right now."

"I didn't say you had to take care of her. I said you needed to treat her better." Sam clenched his jaw and turned away. "You can pout and whine all you want, just don't fuss at her because you're feeling bad. If you wanna be pissed at me, be pissed at me."

He turned back around and glared. "Yeah, you know what? I am pissed at you. I'm pissed that you would make a deal in the first place, and that you would then tell us to just let you go. And I'm pissed that she would listen like an obedient little puppy. I mean, what, she can't think for herself, you have to do it for her?"

Before I even knew what I was doing I had Sam shoved up against the wall. I was sure I'd never moved so fast in my life.

"Shut up, Sam."

I was deadly calm and it seemed he was surprised that I'd done what I did. It just hadn't set well with me that he'd been talking about Aly that way.

"And don't talk about her like that. And treat her better."

He had to. He had to treat her better because I wouldn't be here to do it. So I needed him to. I needed to know Sam would at least look out for her when - when I was gone.

Later that day, after Sam and I calmed down - though I hadn't really been mad - we settled down to watch the news just to see if anything was up, and of course with our life, something was up.

Some Mr. Warren had drowned the night before we'd gotten here. This time it was in a bathtub, which was more probable than a shower, but still… Besides, his brother, another Mr. Warren, said the dead one saw a ship.

"A'right, I'm gonna go get Aly. You go ahead and go to the car."

"'Kay."

I did what I said I was going to and went to Aly's room. The front desk had given her a spare room key and she in turn had given it to me. I'd done the same with our spare. It reinforced the whole we-didn't-have-to-knock thing.

When I opened the door and stepped inside I saw that Aly was asleep. She was on her side and her laptop was there on the bed beside her. She'd been up all of yesterday, all night and then half of today. I was feeling generous, so I decided not to disturb her, not now. I wrote her a note on the motel stationery and explained what had happened and where we were going.

I glanced at her again and I noticed she didn't look peaceful at all. It was like she was sleeping, but not really resting. That must've been a new thing because she'd always slept well before - aside from a nightmare every now and then. She'd always said she slept better when I was there with her, and now I wasn't, so…I guessed it really did affect her sleep.

Before I consciously made the decision to I was sitting beside her and smoothing the hair back from her face. She had a frown line between her eyebrows and I used my thumb to soothe it away. It was kind of amazing because her face instantly relaxed and she let out a soft sigh.

"Dean."

It was spoken softly and at first I thought I'd been caught, but then her eyes stayed closed and I let out a sort of frustrated groan. Not too loud because I didn't want to wake her, but a groan nonetheless.

What was I doing here? This was just making everything so much harder. For both of us.

After stroking her cheek one last time I stood up and went out the way I'd come in.

(Aly's POV)

As I drifted up into wakefulness I realized two things. One, I was freezing, and two my side was hurting - probably from the weird-ass position I was in.

My laptop was still beside me and still on the page I'd been looking at before falling asleep. I'd been doing a background check on Sheila Case, the first victim.

I stretched lazily and groaned as every bone in my back popped - or that's what it felt like, anyway. I turned around and my hand fell on a piece of paper. I grabbed it and saw it was a note.

Aly,

Hey, came to get you but you were sleeping. Someone else drowned and Sam and I went to check it out. Call me when you wake up.

Dean

Dean could wait. I had another pressing matter to take care of first. My bladder seemed to be full. After taking care of that, I did as the note asked and called Dean.

"Yeah?" His perpetual answer.

"Hey, got your note."

"'Bout time. I left it, like, five hours ago." I could tell he wasn't really mad, he was just teasing.

"Yeah, well, gotta sleep."

"Yeah. Anyway, we're back now, so, you can come on over if you want."

"Sure. Give me a minute."

Then we hung up. As I'd said, it took me about a minute to get to the door. When I went in I stopped almost immediately because, God, something stunk.

"What the hell died in here?" I asked, looking at Dean, who had his shirt over his nose.

"That would be Sam's ass," Dean answered. "We had Mexican."

"Hm. I'm gonna leave the door open." Let it air out, jeeze.

"I told you it was like a toxic waste dump," Dean said to Sam. "God, you're never eating burritos again."

"We should actually make that a law," I teased. "Write it down somewhere."

The smell was even getting to Sam, if his scrunched up face was anything to go by.

After about thirty seconds I was able to shut the door and Dean pointed to the table. "Your food's there."

I wasn't too crazy about Mexican food - it made my stomach hurt - but of course Dean knew that so instead I had a sub.

"Thank you."

"Uh-huh. I didn't know when you'd wake up so I got the only thing I knew wouldn't spoil."

Now that the room was clear I sat at the table and started eating.

"So…when I was looking earlier I found out that a couple years ago Sheila had a car accident and she killed her cousin. It wasn't drunk driving or anything, car was clean…guess she just lost control." I shrugged. "That's the only thing I could find. She doesn't have a criminal record or anything."

I took a bite and savored the taste of turkey, lettuce, tomato, and cheese. Mm. Then, with my mouth semi-full, I said, "What about your guy?"

"Not much. There're two brothers. They both saw the ship, only one is dead right now, but we're going back tonight to make sure the other one stays alive. Both brothers are Duke University grads. No criminal record, like Sheila. I mean, a few speeding ticket." Sam was the one explaining and he seemed to be in a better mood. "They inherited their father's real-estate fortune six years ago."

"How much?"

"Hundred and twelve million.

Dean whistled appreciatively. "Nice life."

"Yeah. I mean, nice, clean, aboveboard. So why'd they see the ship? Why Sheila too? What do they all have in common?" Sam sighed. "There's always something."

"Dead relatives," I said. "Sheila's cousin and the guys dad. Were they with the dad when he died?"

"No. Not that I can tell from any of the articles I read."

"Hm."

The guys waited until after I finished eating and then we got ready to go. The guys had readied the weapons already so the shotguns were already filled with salt rounds.

After reaching the Warren mansion we sat and sat and then we sat some more, waiting for something to happen. I'd been hoping nothing would, but…our luck sucked. And we didn't get to save the guy.

Mr. Warren had realized we were outside and he'd confronted us. Then he'd gotten in his car and began to drive away, but his car had stalled. The guys had drowned in his car. Didn't know how the cops and coroner were going to explain that one.

Point was we had failed and the man was dead now. We had seen what - or who - had done it. A man - black hair, scraggly hair, soaking wet and very pale, and he was missing a hand - had been in the passenger seat. It had been a ghost, which we'd already known, and when Dean had used a salt gun it had disappeared. And we'd been too late.

So now we were driving back to the motel, mostly just to get out stuff because we were going somewhere else. Somewhere closer to where the victims had lived. Just in case.

The car ride had been silent and tense until Dean spoke. That only took care of the silence part, though.

"You wanna say it or should I?"

"What?"

"You can't save everybody, Sam."

"Yeah, right, so what, you feel better now or what?"

"No, not really."

"Me neither. It's just lately I feel like I can't save anybody."

I knew who he was talking about, of course, and I felt a rush of sympathy run through me and I brought my hand up and touched the back of his neck soothingly. To my surprise, he didn't flinch away.

We ended up at this old two story house - abandoned, of course - that looked a little haunted. Good thing we were us. Once we settled in for the night Sam began trying to ID the man we'd seen and the ship, and Dean began doing something on his phone. Downloading music or something.

"Um…I'm gonna call Bobby," I said, heading for another room. "Make sure he's okay."

"Why wouldn't he be okay?" Sam asked, looking up from his research.

"He called, was acting weird, hung up fast," I explained quickly. "Dean can fill ya in."

Before I could even move any further my phone vibrated in my pocket. When I pulled it out and looked at the screen I…didn't know the number.

"Hm. Hello?" Obviously, I answered anyway.

"Child, you are harder to reach than the sky," a sweet, rich, familiar voice said, but I couldn't place it for the life of me.

"Um…you sound really familiar, but…"

"Missouri."

Ah-ha! As soon as she'd said the name I knew who she was. Missouri Mosely. Why was she calling me?

"Oh! Hi! What's wrong?" Funny how I automatically assumed the worst.

"Nothing. Yet. But Bobby's in way over his head, I can tell you that."

"Do you know where he is?"

"Why, he's been here with me, searchin' for one object or another."

"Yeah, he told me he was looking for something."

"Somethin' to save your boyfriend. He's not havin' much luck. He could use your help to tell you the truth." I could almost see the sympathy in her voice. "Somethin' tells me you could use this, too. You've maybe been running on empty lately."

"Running on fumes, actually." I ignored the two guys for now, even though they were giving me confused looks. Then thinking about what she'd said… "Why me?" Why had she called me?

"Because between you and Sam, you're the one who'll think with a clear head. Especially on this."

"And what exactly is this?"

"You'll find out when you get here," she said and I could hear her smile. "See you then, child."

"Hm."

I hung up and saw that both Sam and Dean were looking at me expectantly.

"So…who was that?"

"Um…Missouri."

"Mosely?" Sam asked. "What'd she want?"

"To let me know what Bobby was doing, actually." I scoffed. "Somehow she knew I was gonna call, I guess."

"How'd she know your number?" Dean asked.

"I don't know. Maybe she got it off Bobby's phone. He's been with her, he's in Lawrence. He's looking for something. Not sure what." Technically, I wasn't lying, because I wasn't sure what he was looking for, not specifically. I shook my head. "She thinks he might need my help. I've gotta go to him after this case. I have to-"

"We have to," Dean corrected. "You're not goin' by yourself."

"Well, good. I don't wanna. I just…it's Lawrence, ya know? I know how you feel about that place."

"It's not enough to make me let you go alone."

I smiled softly. "Good. Now, let's ID this boat. What do we know about it?"

"Peter Warren said it was a smuggling vessel. There was an angel figurehead on the bow."

"Well, that's gotta narrow things down a little. Right?"

"Hm. You would think."

About an hour later I was researching along with Sam and listening to music at the same time. I'd downloaded more music onto my Ipod when I'd first gotten the new laptop.

Every single night, the same arrangement
I go out and fight the fight
Still I always feel the strange estrangement
Nothing here is real, nothing here is right
I've been making shows of trading blows
Just hoping no one knows
That I've been going through the motions
Walking through the part
Nothing seems to penetrate my heart
I was always brave and kind of righteous
Now I find I'm wavering…

I jumped slightly when Dean touched my shoulder. I'd had my ear phones in and I hadn't heard him approach.

"Huh?"

"I'm gonna go get coffee. Want some?"

"Cappuccino, please."

He grimaced. "Your French vanilla stuff?"

"Uh-huh."

"'Kay, be back in a few."

For a brief second in time I thought he was going to kiss my head like he used to do, but he caught himself in time.

After Dean left Sam started talking. "Look, um…he won't say it, so I'm going to. He misses you. He's never said anything, but I know he does."

"Yeah, I know."

"And, uh…I'm sorry…for how I've been acting. I didn't…wouldn't let myself understand why the choice was hard for you. But…I do get it now, so I'm sorry."

I shook my head. "It's okay. I'm kinda mad at me too."

"For what?"

"Not doing anything to help Dean, when I know that I probably could if I wasn't worried about losing you, too."

"So don't worry about me," Sam said softly. "Do it for him. I give you permission not to worry."

I smiled weakly. "Easier said than done, Sam."

He sighed. "Yeah, I know. Just letting you know that if you find a way…go for it. Don't hold back 'cause of me."

I nodded even as I was rejecting that thought in my head. I couldn't risk someone else's life to save Dean's. One: Dean would never go for it no matter who it was, but especially if it was Sam. And two: I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I sacrificed someone just to get Dean out of the genius deal he'd made. So really, I was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

The next morning, while Sam and I were still researching, Bela showed up. Oh, joy.

"Dear God. Are you actually squatting? Charming." She moved further into the room and stopped when she reached the table Sam and I were at. "So…how'd things go last night with Peter?"

None of us said anything, which pretty much said everything.

"That well, huh?"

"If you say 'I told you so' I swear to God I'll start swingin'," Dean threatened.

Bela ignored it for the most part. "Look, I think the four of us should have a heart-to-heart."

"That's assuming you have a heart."

"Dean, please." She looked at him as he passed by her. "I'm sorry about what I said before, okay? I come bearing gifts." If the gift was whatever she was holding, it didn't look like much. It was a black zippered notebook.

"Such as," Sam asked.

"I've ID'd the ship." She took some pictures out of the notebook and placed them in front of us. "It's the Espirito Santo. A merchant sailing vessel. Quite a colorful history. In 1859 a sailor was accused of treason. He was tried aboard ship in a kangaroo court and hanged. He was 37."

"Which would explain the 37 year cycle," Sam said.

"Aren't you a sharp tack?"

She handed Sam another picture; it was of the guy we'd seen the night before.

"Isn't that the customer we saw last night?"

"You saw him?"

"Yeah, that's him, except he was missing a hand."

"His right hand," Bela said, nodding.

"How'd you know?"

"The sailor's body was cremated, but not before they cut off his hand to make a Hand of Glory."

"A Hand of Glory?" Dean grinned and I knew he was thinking something nasty. "I think I had one of those at the end of my Thai massage last week."

I rolled my eyes and grinned myself. "You don't even know what a Thai massage is."

"The right hand of a hanged man is a serious occult object. It's very powerful."

"So they say," Bela said.

"And officially counts as remains."

"But still, none of this explains why the ghost is choosing these victims."

"I'll tell you why," Bela said. "Who cares? Find the hand, burn it, and stop the bloody thing."

"I don't get it, why are you telling us all this?"

Bela smiled. "Because I know exactly where the hand is."

"Yeah, so?" I asked. "Why the hell would you ever come to us?" And how did she know where to find us, anyway?

"Because I need help."

"No," I said before the guys could say anything. "You've gotta have another reason than that." Because she was Bela, and she didn't try to help people for nothing.

"You told me to try to help," Bela said. "Here I am. It's at the Sea Pines Museum…as a macabre bit of maritime history. I can get us in with Gert's invitation."

"Uh-huh…and what's there that you want?" I asked. "And how do we know you're not just playing us?"

All Bela did was blink so I rolled my eyes again.

"Whatever."

"Look, you three can help me or I can get it myself."

"Yeah, right. Like we're gonna trust you with something like this," Dean muttered. "We'll help."

"We will?" I asked.

"Yes. It'll help the future victims," Sam said. "So, yes, we'll help."

"Good," Bela said. "Now, you three need the proper clothing."

I groaned internally. "As in?"

"A dress for you. Tuxes for them." Bela smiled slightly. "It is a party for the upper class. You three have less than five hours to get ready."

Thanks to Bela Sam, Dean, and I had to go shopping for something that passed for decent in high society. Their tuxes were easy to find, but my dress was harder. Actually, it was just because I was giving them a hard time because I didn't want to help Bela; she had to have a reason for being charitable all of a sudden.

"Come on, Aly. They all look good on you, okay, just pick one," Dean said. "We've been here for an hour-and-a-half."

"That's 'cause I'm not okay with this. She's gotta be playing us somehow," I said from the dressing room.

I was trying on what I hoped would be my last dress. It was silky blue and had shell-like sleeves. A silver belt clasped around the waist. The length of the dress flowed down to where my heels would begin. They were a light silver to match the belt. My feet were going to be killing me by the end of the night.

"I mean, you know that a Hand of Glory can supposedly open any locked door, right? And she's a thief, so, ya know, she could really use one of those."

"Is that just a theory or has it been field tested?" Dean asked.

"How the hell am I supposed to know? All I'm sayin' is Bela probably knows that and that's probably why she wants it."

"So then we won't let her have it," Dean promised. "We still need that hand so we can get rid of the thing. Now hurry up," he finished by stepping into the room with me. I could've sworn it had been locked.

"Dean! This is a naked place!"

"So? It isn't anything I haven't seen before," he teased. "Now come on!" His eyes softened as they roamed over me. "You look good."

"Uh-huh. You're just saying that so I'll hurry up."

"No, I mean it. But yes, I do wanna get out of here. Please."

I smiled softly. "Fine. We need to go back and actually get ready, anyway."

"Yeah, and you know you're gonna take forever," he said.

"Yeah, right," I said. "Because I do that." I rolled my eyes. "Anyway, go away. I had to change back now."

"Again, it's nothin' I haven't already" - he broke off when I glared - "And I'm going."

Later that evening it was Dean who was taking forever. When asked what was taking so long he said it was because he was 'so not okay with this'. I kinda wanted to tell him that I'd said that first.

Bela was here with Dean and me, and Sam had already left. He was with Gert, the perverted old lady. That was at least a week's worth of teasing alone, but it had to be done, so…

I was upstairs with Dean, watching him put the final touches on his outfit. Black tux with a black bow tie and even a white hankie in his pocket. He was freshly shaven and he smelled really nice. He looked…very handsome. Though that was nothing new to me.

By the time we got downstairs Dean was fretting about how the outfit made him look ridiculous.

Bela took the words right out of my mouth when she said, "Not exactly the word I'd use."

"What?"

"You know, when this is over, we should really have angry sex," Bela offered him.

"Okay, eyes back in your head," I said, because hello, I was standing right here. Yes, Dean was handsome and sexy and blah, blah, blah, but I knew that already. And it wasn't like Bela hadn't seen him before, so she shouldn't have been shocked to see how nice-looking he was.

Dean, Bela, and I met with Sam and Gert at the door of the museum. Sam seemed very uncomfortable, and I couldn't say I blamed him.

"This will get their tongues wagging, eh, my Adonis?"

It was still funny, though.

I followed Dean and Bela to the bar where they both picked up a glass of champagne. Dean handed me his and I sipped it. I grimaced and handed the glass back to him.

"Have it," I said. "It's gross." Worse than beer, even.

"We're gonna have to buy you a girly drink one of these days," Dean said. "See if you like that."

"No, thank you," I said.

Suddenly Sam was beside us and he was looking very annoyed. Poor guy.

"Exactly how long do you expect me to entertain my date?"

"As long as it takes," Bela answered easily.

"Look, security's all over this place, a'right?" Dean said, and it was true. There was one cop - or whatever - at every door. "This is an uncrashable party without Gert's invitation so -"

"We can crash anything, Dean."

"Yeah, I know, but this is easier and it's a lot more entertaining." Dean was grinning, but Sam was livid.

"You know there are limits to what I'll do, right?" Sam said.

"Aw, he's playing hard to get. That's cute," Dean teased. "Come on." He grabbed Bela's glass and she stood up. He handed it back to her after she was situated.

"Where're you going?" I asked.

"To scope the place out."

"Oh, okay. Well, I'm gonna stay here and, uh, chaperone," I teased Sam, who frowned as Dean and Bela walked away. "Anyway, have fun."

"Bite me," he said, though it wasn't in a mean way.

I smiled softly and gestured at Gert, who was coming towards us. When she reached us, she grabbed Sam's arm and handed him a glass of champagne. He downed it in one go and Gert seemed really pleased with that. She was obviously trying to get him drunk.

Ballroom music began and Gert convinced Sam to dance with her. I stayed at the bar and watched, trying not to laugh when Gert became a little grabby. She seemed to like touching Sam's ass; he should consider pressing charges for sexual harassment.

I saw Sam cringe when Gert began whispering in his ear, then he just looked plain creeped out.

I placed my hand over my mouth to hide the biggest grin I'd had in a while. Making Sam uncomfortable was a little…fun…in a wicked-sister kind of way.

I suddenly wondered how Dean was faring with Bela's hindrance. I could just see her giving him a hard time and him trying to keep his patience.

I didn't have to wonder for long because both Dean and Bela came back into the room soon enough. It saved Sam from Gert, which was probably a good thing because she seemed a little tipsy, anyway.

"Well, having a nice time?" Bela asked Gert.

"He's delightful!" the old lady said.

We were all standing near the entrance and now Bela was beginning to lead Gert away.

"I'm going to get Gert into a cold shower!"

"Good idea," Sam agreed.

"See you at the cemetery."

I watched them leave and then turned to Dean. "We can go, too, right?"

"Yeah, let's go."

"You have it, right?" Sam asked as we made it to the car. "Tell me I didn't get groped all night by Mrs. Haversham for nothing."

"I got it. Mrs. Who?"

"Great Expectations," I said. "It's a book."

"Let me see it," Sam said, exasperated.

Dean reached into his pocket and took out his handkerchief, which was wrapped around what I assumed was the hand. As he began to unfold the cloth he began frowning.

"What?" I asked.

"I'm gonna kill her."

Instead of Dean holding a shriveled up hand, he had a bottled ship.

I clenched my jaw and closed my eyes. So much for not letting Bela get the friggin' thing. I had to bite my tongue to keep from saying I told you so. How had she gotten close enough to switch the hand with the ship thing, anyway? And how had Dean not felt it?

More importantly, what were we going to do now?

So, I totally would've had this up sooner, but I had company all week last week and then Thanksgiving and all. But here it is now. LOL. As always, let me know what you think, and thank you. :)