Yellow Fever Part 1

Dean was running on the road, hearing growling and barking noises behind him. He turned around a corner, ran into a shopping cart and fell to the ground. He saw a homeless man rummaging through the garbage bin.

"Run! It'll kill you!" Dean pointed.

The homeless man looked at the pink-ribboned Yorkie. Dean started running while shouting at the same time.

~/~\~

The coroner opened a body bag. "Agent Tyler, Agent Perry, Agent Yoho, meet Frank O'Brien."

"He died of a heart attack, right?" Angela asked.

"Three days ago." The coroner nodded.

"But O'Brien was 44 years old and, according to this a marathon runner." Angela frowned.

"Everybody drops dead sooner or later. It's why I got job security."

"Yeah, but Frank kicked it here." Dean replied. "Now, just yesterday, two perfectly healthy men bit it in Maumee. All heart attacks, you don't think that's strange?"

"Sounds like Maumee's problem to me." The coroner said. "Why's the FBI give a damn, anyway?"

"We just want to see the results of Frank's autopsy."

"What autopsy?"

"The one you're gonna do." Dean said.

The coroner cut open the dead body. "First dead body?"

"Far from it."

"Oh, good. Because these suckers can get pretty ripe." The coroner replied. "Hey, hand me those rib cutters, would you?"

Sam took a fortifying breath while Dean picked up the cutters and handed it to the coroner. The coroner cut the ribs open while Sam and Angela kept themselves from squirming.

"Is that from a wedding ring?" Dean asked. "I didn't think Frank was married."

"Ain't my department."

"Any idea how he got these?" Sam picked up Frank's arm which was full of scratches.

"You know what? When you drop dead, you actually tend to drop." The coroner replied. "Body probably got scraped up when it hit the ground. Huh!"

"What?" Angela asked.

"I, I can't find any blockages in any of the major arteries." The coroner frowned. He broke off the heart while Dean tried not to vomit. "Heart looks pretty damn healthy." He handed the heart to Dean. "Hold that a second, would you?" he asked.

Sam smirked on the side and Angela looked at Dean with sympathy. The coroner cut something else in the body. Sam and Angela's faces get hit with blood. "Oh, sorry. Spleen juice."

Angela flinched went the blood hit her face and went wide eyed. Dean just smirked at them.

~/~\~

Sam, Dean and Angela were sitting down in front of the deputy's desk, waiting. The deputy smiled at Dean. The Sheriff opened his office door.

"Hell's bells, Linus, have you seen my…" the Sheriff started. "Who are they?" he asked as the three hunters stood.

"Federal agents. I, uh…" Linus started.

"And you kept them waiting?"

"You, you said not to disturb."

"Come on back, you three."

Sam, Dean and Angela walked over to the Sheriff's office but he stopped them.

"Shoes off."

They took off their shoes and walked into the office.

"Al Britton. Good to meet you." He shook their hands.

"You too." Sam replied.

The Sheriff gestured for them to sit down.

"Thank you." Angela smiled softly.

He took out alcohol gel and started slathering his hands. Dean looked at Sam and Angela with a weird look on his face.

"So, what can I do for uncle Sam?"

"Well, we're looking into the death of Frank O'Brien." Sam started.

"We understand some of your men found his body." Angela added.

"They did." The Sheriff nodded. "Me and Frank, we were friends. Hell, we were gamecocks."

Dean snickered. The Sheriff gave him a stern look. Dean looked abashed.

"That's our softball team's name." the Sheriff said as Dean nodded. "They're majestic animals. I knew Frank since high school. To be honest, I just this morning got up the strength to go see him. Frank was… he was a good man."

"Yeah. Big heart." Dean replied.

"Before he died, did you notice Frank acting strange?" Sam asked. "Maybe scared of something?"

"Oh hell, yeah. Real jumpy."

"You know what scared him?" Angela asked.

"No. Wouldn't answer the phone. Finally, I sent some of my boys over to check on him, and well, you know the rest."

The Sheriff started to pour more alcohol gel on his hands again. Dean looked at Sam and Angela with a 'what the hell?' look on his face.

He slathered the gel on his hands. "So, why the Feds give a crap? You don't really think there's a case here?"

Dean looked at Sam and Angela. "No, no. It's probably nothing. Just a heart attack."

~/~\~

"No way that was a heart attack." Dean said.

"Definitely no way." Angela replied. "Three victims, all with those same red scratches. All went from jittery to terrified to dead within 48 hours."

"Something scared them to death?"

"All right, so what can do that?" Sam asked.

"What can't?" Dean replied. "Ghosts, vampires, chupacabra? It could be a hundred things."

"Yeah. So, we make a list and start crossing things off." Sam shrugged.

"Alright, who's the last person to see Frank O'Brien alive?" Dean asked.

"Uh, his neighbor, Mark Hutchins." Angela replied.

Dean saw something up ahead. "Hang on, hang on."

"What?" Sam and Angela asked.

Dean faced them. "I don't like the look of those teenagers down there." He replied. Sam and Angela looked around, seeing teenagers talking near the Impala. "Let's walk this way." Dean continued.

Dean crossed the street while Sam and Angela stood with perplexed looks on their faces.

~/~\~

Dean and Angela were looking around the room.

"So, the last time you saw Frank O'Brien was…?" Angela looked over her shoulder at Mark.

Dean saw a big lizard and suddenly faced forward, swallowing.

"Monday, he was watching me from his window." Mark replied. "I waved at him, but he just closed the curtains."

"Hmm." Sam nodded. "Did you speak to him recently? Did he seem different? Uh, scared?"

"Oh, totally." Mark replied. "He was freaking out."

Sam and Angela looked at Dean. Dean looked freaked out too.

"Do you know, uh… do you know what scared him?" Dean asked.

"Well, yeah, witches."

"Witches?" Angela asked. Sam, Dean and Angela looked at each other. "Like…?"

"Well, 'Wizard of Oz' was on TV the other night, right?" Mark replied. "And he said that green bitch was out to get him."

"Anything else scare him?" Sam asked.

"Everything else scared him." Mark shrugged. "Al-Qaeda, ferrets, artificial sweetener. Those PEZ dispensers with their dead little eyes. Lots of stuff."

Dean looked around again at the animals inside the aquariums.

"So, tell me." Angela said. "What was Frank like?"

"I mean, he's dead, you know? I-I don't want to hammer him but, he got better."

"He got better?" Sam raised a brow.

"Well, in high school he was, he was a dick."

"A dick?" Angela frowned.

"Like a bully. I mean, he probably taped half the town's butt cheeks together."

Dean snickered.

"Mine included." Mark added.

"So he pissed a lot of people off." Dean replied. "You think anyone would have wanted to get revenge?"

"Well, I don't… Frank had a heart attack, right?"

"Just answer the question, sir." Angela replied.

"No, I don't think so. Like I said, he got better. And after what happened to his wife."

"His wife?" Dean asked. "So he was married."

"She died about 20 years ago. Frank was really broken up about it."

Dean started staring at the snake around Mark's neck. Mark noticed.

"Don't be scared of Donny. He's a sweetheart." Mark smiled. "It's Marie you got to look out for." He nodded to the couch. "She smells fear."

An albino snake crept up from behind the couch. Dean saw it and gasped. He stayed very still while it crawled down his lap.

~/~\~

Dean was sitting in the car reading while scratching on his left arm. Sam and Angela got in the car.

"Hey. Any luck at the county clerk's office?" Sam asked.

"I'm not sure I'd call it luck." Dean replied. "Frank's wife, Jessie, was a manic-depressive. She went off her meds back in '88 and vanished. They found her two weeks later, three towns over. Strung up in her motel room, suicide."

"Any chance Frank helped her along to the other side?" Angela asked.

"No, Frank was working the swing shift when she disappeared. Airtight alibi." He turned on the car. He drove in the middle of town. "How was Frank's pad?" Dean asked.

"Clean. Searched it top to bottom," Sam started.

"No EMF, no hex bags, no sulphur." Angela continued.

Dean looked at them and smiled a bit.

"What?" Angela asked.

"I dunno, you two haven't done that whole finish each other's sentences thing in a while. It's nice to hear it return." He laughed slightly.

Angela rolled her eyes. "Back to the case, Dean."

He nodded. "So probably no ghosts, no witches, no demons."

"Pfh…" Sam muttered.

"3 down and 97 to go." Dean said.

"Yeah." Sam nodded. He saw the speed Dean was driving in. "Dude, you're going 20."

"And?"

"That's the speed limit." Angela replied.

"What? Safety's a crime now?" Dean asked. He drove through the intersection, past their hotel.

"Dude, where are you doing?" Sam asked. "That was our hotel."

"Guys, I'm not gonna make a left-hand turn into oncoming traffic. I'm not suicidal."

Sam and Angela gave Dean a confused look.

"Did I just say that?" Dean asked. "That was kind of weird."

The EMF went off in the background.

"Do you hear something?" Angela asked. She took out the EMF meter, moved it from and to Dean where it made a sound.

"Am I haunted?" Dean asked. "Am I haunted?!"

~/~\~

Sam had the phone on speaker and was talking to Bobby with Angela. They heard music from the Impala and walked towards it. They saw Dean lying in the front seat doing air drums to Eye of the Tiger. Sam banged on the roof of the car and scared Dean.

"Guys. Look at this." Dean showed his scratched arm.

"We just talked to Bobby." Angela replied.

"And?" he smelled the box of donuts and threw them into the car.

Sam looked perplexed at Dean ignoring the donuts. "Um, well you're not gonna like it."

"What?"

"It's ghost sickness." Angela said.

"Ghost sickness?"

"Yeah." Sam nodded.

"God, no."

"Yeah." Angela said.

"I don't even know what that is." Dean said.

"Okay." Sam replied. "Some cultured believe that certain spirits can infect the living with a disease, which is why they stopped displaying bodies in houses and started taking them off to funeral homes."

"Okay, get to the good stuff."

"Symptoms are you get anxious…" Angela said.

"Yeah."

"Then scared, then really scared, then your heart gives out." She continued. "Sound familiar."

"Yeah, but guys, we haven't seen a ghost in weeks."

"Well, I doubt you caught it from a ghost." Sam replied. "Look, once a spirit infects that first person, ghost sickness can spread like any sickness through a cough, a handshake, whatever. It's like the flu. Now, Frank O'Brien was the first to die, which means he was probably the first infected. Patient zero."

"Our very own outbreak monkey." Dean nodded.

"Right." Angela replied. "Okay, so Frank was in Maumee over the weekend. Softball tournament. Which is where he must have infected the other two victims."

"Were they gamecocks?" Dean asked.

"Cornjerkers." Sam replied.

"So, ghosts infected Frank. He passed it on to the other guys and I got it from his corpse?"

"Right." Angela nodded.

"So now what, I have 48 hours before I go insane and my heart stops."

"More like 24." Sam replied.

"Super."

"Yeah." Angela muttered.

"Well, why me? Why not you two?" Dean asked. "I mean, you guys got hit with the spleen juice."

"Yeah, um, you see Bobby, Angie and I have a theory about that too." Sam replied. "Turns out all three victims shared a certain, uh, personality type. Frank was a bully. The other two victims, one was a vice principal, the other was a bouncer."

"Okay."

"Basically, they were all dicks." Angela said.

"So you're saying I'm a dick?" Dean frowned.

"No, no, no." Angela said. "It's not just that. All three victims used fear as a weapon, and now this disease is just returning the favor."

"I don't scare people." Dean replied.

"Dean, all we do is scare people." Sam said.

"Okay, well then, you're dicks too."

"Apparently, we're not." Sam smiled.

"Whatever." Dean rolled his eyes. "How do we stop it?"

"We gank the ghost that started all this." Angela said. "We do that, the disease should clear up."

"You thinking Frank's wife?"

"Who knows why she killed herself, you know?" Sam replied. "Hey, what are you doing waiting out here, anyway?"

Dean looked up at the hotel. "Our room's on the fourth floor."

Sam looked and shook his head.

"It's… it's high." Dean muttered.

"I'll see if I can move us down to the first." Angela said.

"Thanks."

"Sure." She smiled.

Dean climbed into the Impala and looked at the donuts.

~/~\~

Dean sat at the table with a book in front of him. He stared at a wall clock ticking loudly in the background. He went back to reading and started coughing when he saw disturbing images. He saw words that seemed to be talking to him and he started to panic. He irritatingly looked back at the clock.

Sam and Angela came into the room, seeing a broken clock on the floor. Dean was on the sofa drinking beer.

"Everything all right?" Angela asked.

"Oh, yeah." Dean nodded. "Just peachy. Find anything?"

"Yeah, Jessie O'Brien's body was cremated, so I'm pretty sure she is not our ghost. Hey, quit picking at that." Sam replied. "How you feeling?"

"Awesome. It's nice to have my head on the chopping block again. I almost forgot what that feels like."

"Yeah." Sam said.

"It's freaking delightful."

"We'll keep looking." Angela assured.

Dean started to cough.

"You okay? Hey!" Angela said.

Dean started to choke.

"Dean." Sam frowned.

Dean was gagging over the sink where he spit out a wood chip.

"We've been completely ignoring the biggest clue we have, you." Angela grinned.

"I don't want to be a clue." Dean complained.

"The abrasions, this, the disease, it's trying to tell us something." Sam said.

"Tell us what, wood chips?" Dean asked.

"Exactly." Sam and Angela replied.

~/~\~

Dean looked at the mill apprehensively. "I'm not going in there."

"We need backup." Angela said. "And you're all we've got. You're going in, Dean."

Dean took a drink of whiskey. "Let's do this. It is a little spooky, isn't it?"

Sam handed Dean a gun.

"Oh, I'm not carrying that. It could go off. I'll man the flashlight."

"You do that." Sam nodded.

~/~\~

The EMF went off in the background.

"EMF's not gonna work with me around, is it?" Dean asked.

"You don't say. Come on." Sam replied.

"Wait…" Angela said, startling Dean. "'To Frank. Love, Jessie.' Frank O'Brien's ring."

"What the hell was Frank doing here?" Dean asked.

"No idea." Sam replied.

They walked into a room full of lockers where they heard rustling. Sam opened a locker and Dean screamed after being startled by a cat.

"That was scary!" Dean exclaimed. Sam and Angela walked away. "Wait."

Angela looked at an ID card. "Luther Garland."

Dean saw a drawing on the table. "Hey, this is uh… this is Frank's wife."

"Plot thickens." Sam said.

"Yeah, but into what?" Dean asked.

Dean tore off the drawing and machines turned on. He looked around and he saw something in the corner. Angela and Sam looked at Dean and saw him looking behind them, they turned around and saw the same thing.

"Hey!" Sam yelled. Sam and Angela turned around to see Dean running out of the mill.

Angela shot the apparition and Sam and Angela went after Dean who was hiding behind the Impala taking another drink.

"Guess we got the right place." Angela said.

~/~\~

Deputy Linus handed a folder to Sam. "This is the Garland file." He said. He saw Dean waving. "Is he… drunk?"

"No." Sam replied. "Deputy, according to this, Luther Garland's cause of death was physical trauma." Sam added. "What does that mean?"

"The guy died 20 years ago, before my time. Sorry."

"Then can we talk to the sheriff?" Angela asked.

"Um, he's out sick today."

"Well, if you see him, will you have him call us? We're staying at the Bluebird. Mind if I take this?" Sam asked.

"Know what?" Dean piped up. "You're awesome."

"Thanks. Um, y-you too, I guess."

~/~\~

Sam, Dean and Angela were walking inside. Dean was startled by a resident that they bumped into in the hallway.

"This isn't gonna work." Dean said. "Come on, these badges are fake. What if we get busted? We could go to jail."

"Dean, shh!" Angela hissed. "Calm down. Deep breath, okay?" she raised a brow. Dean took a deep breath. "There. You feel better?" she asked. Dean shook his head no. "Just come on. Don't scratch."

"Mr. Garland." Sam said. "Hi, uh, I'm Agent Tyler. This is Agent Perry and Agent Yoho, FBI. We'd like to ask you a few questions about your brother Luther."

"Let me see some I.D."

"Certainly." Angela smiled.

"Those are real." Dean said. "Obviously. I mean, who would pretend to be an FBI agent, huh? That's just nutty."

"What do you want to know?"

"Uh, well… according to this, your brother Luther died of physical trauma." Sam said. Mr. Garland scoffed.

"You don't agree." Angela said.

"No, I don't."

"Well, then, what would you call it?" Angela asked.

"Don't matter what an old man thinks."

"Mr. Garland. We're just trying to get the truth on your brother. Please." Sam said.

"Everybody was scared of Luther. They called him a monster. He was too big, too mean looking. Just too different. Didn't matter he was the kindest man I ever knew. Didn't matter he'd never hurt no one. A lot of people failed Luther. I was one of them. I was a widower with three young 'uns. And I told myself there was nothing I could do."

"Mr. Garland, um… do you recognize this woman?" Sam asked.

"It's Jessie O'Brien. Her man, Frank, killed Luther."

"How do you know that?" Angela frowned.

"Everybody knows. They just don't talk about it." Mr. Garland replied. "Jessie was a receptionist at the mill. She was always real nice to Luther, and he had a crush on her. But Frank didn't like it. And when Jessie went missing, Frank was sure Luther had done something to her. Turns out the old gal killed herself, but Frank didn't know that. They found Luther with a chain wrapped around his neck. He was dragged up and down the stretch outside that plant till he was past dead."

"And O'Brien was never arrested?" Dean asked.

"I screamed to every cop in town. They didn't want to look into Frank. He was a pillar of the community. My brother was just the town freak."

"You must have hated Frank O'Brien." Sam replied.

"I did for a long time, but life's too short for hate, son. And Frank wasn't thinking straight. His wife had vanished, he was terrified. A damn shame he had to put Luther through the same, but… that's fear. It spreads and spreads."

~/~\~

"Now we know what these are, road rash. And I'm guessing Luther swallowed some wood chips when he was being dragged down that road." Dean said.

"Makes sense." Angela nodded. "You're experiencing his death in slow motion."

"Yeah well, not slow enough, huh? Say we burn some bones and get me healthy."

"Dean, it won't be that easy." Sam replied.

"No, no, it'll be that easy. Why wouldn't it be that easy?"

"Luther was road hauled." Angela said. "His body was ripped to pieces. He was probably scattered all over that road. There's no way we're gonna find all the remains."

"You're kidding me." Dean said.

"Look, we'll just have to figure something else out." Angela shrugged.

"You know what? Screw this."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Dean." Sam said.

"Come on. No, I mean, come, guys. What are we doing?!"

"We're hunting a ghost." Sam replied.

"A ghost, exactly! Who does that?"

"Us." Angela shrugged.

"Us?" Dean repeated. "Right. And that guys, that is exactly why our lives suck. I mean, come on, we hunt monsters! What the hell?! I mean, normal people, they see a monster, and they run. But not us, no, no, no, we, we search out things that want to kill us. Yeah? Huh? Or eat us! You know who does that? Crazy people! We… are insane! You know, and then there's the bad diner food and then the skeevy motel rooms and then the truck stop waitress with the bizarre rash. I mean, who wants this life, guys? Huh? Seriously? Do you actually like being in a car with me eight hours a day, every single day? I don't think so! I mean, I drive too fast. And I listen to the same five albums over and over and over again, a-and I sing along. I'm annoying. I know that. And Sam, you're gassy! You eat half a burrito, and you get toxic! And Angie, you, you can't sing at all, I just, you know what?" he tossed Sam the keys. "You two can forget it."

"Whoa, Dean. Where are you going?" Angela asked.

"Stay away from me you two, okay? Cause I am done with it. I'm done with the monsters and, and, and the hellhounds and the ghost sickness and the damn apocalypse. I'm out. I'm done. Quit."

Dean was walking when he heard growling behind him.

~/~\~

"We looked everywhere for you, Dean." Sam said. "How the hell did you get here?"

"Ran. What do we do now? I got less than four hours on the clock. I'm gonna die, guys."

"Yeah, you are." Sam nodded. Dean looked puzzled.

"You're going back." Angela added.

"Back?"

"Downstairs, Dean. Hell. It's about dam time, too." Sam replied. He slid an arm around Angela's waist and smirked. "Truth is," Sam started, looking at Dean with yellow eyes. "You've been a real pain in our asses." He threw Dean against the wall with a hand gesture.

"No! You get out of my brother, you evil son of a bitch!"

"No one's possessing me, Dean This is what I'm going to become. This is what I want to become. There's nothing you can do about it." He smirked.

Angela looked at Dean, her eyes also going yellow. Dean frowned. "Angie… No, no not you too…"

"Dean, Dean. Sammy's shown me a whole new light." She smiled. "He's right. This is who we want to become. And there's nothing you or the angels can do to change my mind or 'purify' me."

Sam smirked and started chocking Dean.

"Hey, hey, hey, Dean." The real Sam said.

"Hey, Dean." The real Angela added. "Dean. Dean."

A/N: Hey guys! Hope you lied the chapter! The reason Angie went all yellow eyed in Dean's hallucination was because I think Dean would really fear losing her to what she hates the most, especially when she and the angels are trying to purify her. So, just a little explanation for that.

Also, tomorrow is my last day of my freshman year of high school! Exciting, yeah? And lastly, I have already planned two episodes of Season 5 and I have the title of the next installment, so yay!

Please, please review! Love you guys!

~Emily