Ladies night at the pub. An evening on the beach. Surely nothing can go wrong...

CHAPTER 12

1123 PM
Wooden Nickel Pub
Ocracoke, NC

"Must have been fun to grow up living on an island." Casey said, sipping her beer. She wasn't the least bit buzzed, even if she was letting Matilda Corprew think she was. It paid to be in complete control.

Matilda laughed, "If you consider living on an island fun. You know how often I would have killed for a mall?"

Casey nodded, "Oh I get it. I grew up in farm country. Nothing for miles and miles."

"I guess I'd rather be surrounded by the ocean than corn." Matilda shrugged, downing another shot. The woman was past buzzed and quickly approaching drunk. "It's not a bad life. Only one I've ever known. My family has been living on the island for...well, for centuries."

"Wow." Casey gushed, with enthusiasm she didn't really feel. She said, "That's amazing! I'm sure you know all the greatest places for romantic picnics."

"Absolutely. You wanna have a picnic?" Matilda grinned, "Which one's yours?"

"What?" Casey frowned.

"Which one of those handsome men is yours? The history buff, or the…" Matilda hiccuped, then sighed, "the other buff one?"

Casey smiled, actually finding herself glad that Bennett had made herself scarce shortly after arriving at the bar. She said, "The other buff one is mine."

"How'd'you get 'em?" Matilda slurred.

"Long story." Casey said simply. She did not have any desire to tell Matilda the details so she just said, "We met at work." Which was sort of true, she mused, sipping her drink and feeling a little sorry for the museum curator. She added, "He's probably holed up with a pizza and some Schwarzenegger movie right about now." More like sitting on the beach trying to kill a monster, Casey smiled. "We're on a little vacation."

Matilda tipped her glass in a toast, "Congrats. Lots of great hideaways I can tell you 'bout."

"You have a special someone?" Casey asked, knowing Matilda was sloshed enough to tell her just about anything she wanted to know.

"No." Matilda shook her head, "Not in a while. Too busy with work. Look, I'll draw you a map with the best places to take your man."

"Ok, but just make sure they aren't any of the haunted places." Casey giggled, hating herself for acting so stupid. Playing a role, playing a role, she chided herself. If Matilda needed a tipsy, giggly girlfriend to spill some details to, then Casey would be tipsy and giggly.

Matilda shook her head, "Oh, no. I'll steer you clear. Because, I don't care what people say, this island is haunted. Cursed."

"Really?" Casey leaned forward and lowered her voice conspiratorially, "My granny always said that ghosts were real." Of course, Granny BeaBea had also taught me how to gank a ghost when I was just a kid. Casey asked, "Why do you say the island is cursed?"

"Because ever since that ship sank," Matilda said, words slurring and her eyes nearly crossing. "Bad things have happened here. And things have only gotten worse lately with that ship showing up out of season."

Casey frowned, "But earlier, you said you didn't really believe in the ghost ship…"

Matilda nodded, "I know. And I don't. Exactly." She frowned, blinking blearily at Casey as she said, "But with everything that's been happening lately...after last night… I'm finding it hard to ignore all of it. People have always talked about the ship. Have always said the island's haunted. Trust me, I'm basically the historian of this creepy little island. I know just about everything that's happened here in the past three hundred years."

As Matilda launched into the tale of the flaming ship, Casey casually glanced around the pub. She and Bennett had hung together for awhile, then when Matilda had shown up, Bennett had turned and walked away without a word. Her dislike of the museum curator both amused and worried Casey. So ever since, Casey had been trying to keep Matilda talking while also keeping an eye on Bennett.

Casey finally caught sight of her up near the stage. Bennett was surrounded by the members of the band while they took a break between their sets. Eyes wide and innocent, Bennett was flirting with the only guys in the entire room, save the bartender. And Casey had already seen her scoring free drinks from the burly barkeep. Feeling a slight twist of concern in her gut, Casey wondered if she shouldn't go make sure Bennett wasn't getting in over her head. Apparently she wasn't exactly a lightweight, but she'd been drinking steadily since they'd arrived.

Just about to interrupt Matilda, Casey glanced up and Bennett was looking straight at her. Whatever she'd just said had the band members laughing. Bennett smiled and winked at Casey, giving her a quick, subtle thumbs up. Casey nodded and smiled.

She was fine.

0105
Ocracoke Beach

"Man, this sucks."

Sam rubbed his hands together and shook his head, "You said that. A few thousand times already."

"Well it does suck."

"At least it's not raining anymore."

Dean glared at the sky. It was still cold. And damp. And miserable.

"I could have done this by myself. You could have gone with Casey and Bennett."

"Ladies Night." Dean muttered as if it were a dirty word. He shook his head, stood up and brushed his jeans off. For the thousandth time. He looked around then shoved his hands in his pockets and said, "I hate beaches."

"Yeah, they aren't exactly my cup of tea either, you know." Sam smacked Dean's leg when he showered sand all over him. "Get away from me when you do that."

Dean purposefully brushed a little more sand Sam's way, then groaned, "Maybe we should just call it a night. Do you think?" he asked hopefully, sitting down again and grimacing at the cold sand. He smiled, "Maybe we can catch up with the girls. I don't care if it is Ladies Night. They're our ladies…"

Sam snorted, "I'm not sure Casey would appreciate that. Little bit possessive, don't you think?"

"Whatever." Dean leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and staring at the quiet beach. "The monster ship isn't going to appear. Nothing's happened all night. Nothing's going to happen."

"Are you trying to jinx us?" Sam countered, glancing at his watch. "We're not going anywhere until after two, Dean. You said the sheriff said the latest the ship had ever appeared was by 2 AM. I am not going back fifty-five minutes early because you don't like the sand and then find out the ship appeared after we bailed."

"Fine, fine." Dean reached into the weapon's bag and pulled out a candy bar. He glared out at the ocean waves, then glanced at Sam. Who was grinning. Lowering the candy bar, Dean asked, "Why are you smiling like that? Something funny about us sitting out here like a couple of complete fools?"

Sam tried to wipe the smile from his face and said, "Nothing's funny."

"Uh huh." Dean shifted in the sand and said, "Spit it out. You look too happy. Either you've been holding out on me and that's beer in your thermos or things with Bennett have been going really well. Either talk about whatever's on your mind or I'm going to tell ghost stories." This time he grinned and said, "I have a couple of really good ones, too."

"Dude, I know every ghost story you could possibly tell." Sam rolled his eyes. "I was there for most of them."

"So?"

"I'm just glad you and Casey seem to have worked out your...issues." Sam said with a shrug, reaching for a granola bar. "It wasn't exactly fun to see you to at each other's throats all the time."

Dean nodded, staring back out at the waves. He muttered, "Tell me about it. Crazy to think that running into her jerk of an ex-boyfriend would be what it took to get us straightened out."

"So you are straightened out?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow, "No more shouting matches?"

"Oh, I wouldn't count on that one, Sammy." Dean said, settling back against a tree with a smile. "I'm pretty sure we're still going to have shouting matches from time to time. But we're good." He took another bite of his candy bar, then slapped Sam on the shoulder, "You and Bennett seem to have worked a few things out too."

Sam just smiled.

Dean went on, "I guess you two weren't disappointed to stay home all day today."

"It was kind of nice, actually."

"I bet it was." Dean smirked, earning himself a dirty look from Sam before he continued and asked, "Are we still calling it complicated or…"

"Oh, it's complicated." Sam said, thinking back to the previous night. He smiled, "And it's probably going to get more complicated. I kind of asked her to marry me."

Dean nearly choked on his candy bar. He coughed until he had tears in his eyes, the grin on his brothers face aggravating the peace out of him while he did so. Finally able to suck in a breath, he sat up and took a few deep breaths. Sam just stared at him, eyebrows raised and a smile on his face.

Eyes watering and throat sore, Dean grimaced and asked, "When were you planning to tell me?"

"We haven't gotten around to invitations or anything." Sam shrugged, probably enjoying his brother's distress more than was strictly necessary. "It's not like it's been a month, Dean. It just happened."

Dean shook his head, mind still reeling. He ignored the sand that seeped into his boot as he turned to face Sam. For a long moment, he just stared at him, evaluating, looking to see if his leg was being pulled. He asked, "When?"

"The other night. After Casey got back."

"Tell me you didn't ask her to marry you while you were at the truck stop, Sammy." Dean said, horrified. He might never have even come close to marriage in his life, but even he knew a truck stop was about as lame as it could get.

Sam grinned, "No it was before we went to eat." He shook his head, eyes on the ocean and Dean could see that he was happy. Really happy. Sam said, "It...just happened."

"Yeah. Cuz proposing to a girl just happens." Dean rolled his eyes. "You sap. Did you get down on one knee when you asked for her hand in marriage?"

"Not exactly."

"What did you say?" Dean asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

"I asked her if she wanted to make breakfast with me." Sam shrugged, "Forever. She said yes."

Dean wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. It was the stupidest thing he'd ever heard, but somehow it actually sounded kind of cute. And given how happy Sam looked, he decided just to roll his eyes and say, "You're a regular Romeo there, Sammy."

"Haha." Sam said in annoyance. Then he looked a bit nervous and asked, "You don't think I'm crazy?"

"Oh, I wouldn't say that." Dean said, then added, "But seriously. Good for you. I'm happy for you two."

"I know it's only been like a month…"

"Yeah and for someone who wouldn't even call her a girlfriend a few days ago," Dean shook his head, "look at you, all spur of the moment. Thought you were more of a planner."

"I thought so too. But that night, after everything that had just happened," Sam said, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked at Dean, "it just seemed like the right thing to do. We don't know how much time we've got, Dean. And I lost Jess before…"

He broke off and Dean held his breath, but Sam went on, "I just didn't want to lose Bennett too."

"Good plan." Dean nodded. He smiled and said, "You better have another good plan for how you two are going to break the news to Casey. Cuz she's gonna be pissed she wasn't the first to know, you realize?"

Sam smiled then asked, "So what about you?"

"What about me?"

"You ever think about…"

"All the time." Dean said, surprising them both. At Sam's intent stare, he had to look away, but he said, "But I'm going to need to put a bit more thought into it."

"Her birthday is coming up in a few months…" Sam offered with an innocent smile.

Dean rolled his eyes, "Dude. Don't rush me. We are so not having a double wedding." He shuddered dramatically. Then, because the situation could so easily have become a chick-flick moment, he added, "I have to say I approve of Bennett a lot more than I did…"

"Don't say it…" Sam glared, instantly knowing where Dean was going with this.

"Becky." Dean grinned.

"That's it." Sam punched him in the shoulder, "I'll stay here with the guns. You go out there and be ghost bait."

Dean just laughed, "Don't be such a baby."

0110
Wooden Nickel Pub
Ocracoke, NC

Bennett took her shot, then stepped away from the pool table, letting Dover Wayde, a very handsy guitarists take his turn. The rest of the band members were hovering drunkenly nearby. Bennett nibbled a pretzel and looked around for Casey. She finally caught sight of her friend, sitting up at the bar with Matilda. Knowing she was being childish, Bennett couldn't help but be glad she didn't have to sit there and be friendly to the woman. The way Matilda had been all over Sam had done nothing but annoy her. It wasn't that she felt threatened by Matilda, she just was beyond irritated at being ignored by the woman. Watching Casey laugh at something the other woman had said, Bennett gently elbowed the guitarist to keep him from pawing her butt again. Sliding away from the guy, she tried to catch Casey's eye.

But Casey was deeply engrossed in conversation with the curator. Matilda was scribbling on yet another napkin. She'd been doing that a lot. Giving Casey directions, most likely. Bennett chewed her lip and began to wish she'd gone with Sam and Dean. There really wasn't much point in her being here. Even if Matilda hadn't been so rude to her, Bennett knew nothing about museums or ships or history. She couldn't help Casey and she felt suddenly lonely.

But then Bennett felt the guitarist's hand on her backside again and she quickly scooted around the table, careful to let the pool stick smack Handsy in a tender place as she took her next turn. Just as she was lining up her shot, though, avoiding Handsy became the least of her concerns when the front door of the bar blew open and all hell broke loose around them.

She didn't even see what initially happened, just the aftereffects of the chaos. People were running in every direction, making it practically impossible to tell what they were running from; or who was running in the right direction. The screams were deafening and overwhelming. Trying to move forward, Bennett caught a glimpse of a woman, covered in blood and slash marks stumbling into a table and dropping to the floor dead. Frantically, Bennett looked for Casey but couldn't see her in the mess. The lights were flickering and the room was shaking as panicked people pushed and shoved and flesh was torn from bone.

Pushing a sobbing woman down behind the bar, Bennett caught a quick glance of Casey, her angel blade already readied as she searched for the threat. Starting to move toward her friend, Bennett was knocked into the wall and lost sight of Casey. But she did catch a glimpse of what was slashing up the unfortunate ladies of ladies night.

Across the room, she caught a glimpse of a man who looked like he'd stepped off the set of a pirate movie. The sword in his hand went through a blonde woman; instantly silencing her frantic screams. And then he was gone. Disappeared as if he'd been an illusion. Only to appear again a few feet nearer to her as he raised his sword again.

Breath frozen in her throat, for an eternity-long moment Bennett couldn't move, couldn't do anything but stare at the mess. Everywhere she looked, she could see people being attacked...by ghosts. You really aren't very quick sometimes, are you, Bennett thought to herself, coming to grips with what was actually happening. So much for one ghost politely ambling through her bedroom. This was an ambush. And these ghosts were anything but polite.

Shaking herself out of her daze, Bennett forced herself to focus and pushed a woman with blood on her face toward the back door. About to guide someone else out, she felt herself grabbed from behind. Kicking, she fought to get away, but the guitarist was stronger than she was and hauled her out the side door with a flood of terrified people.

"What are you doing?" Bennett shouted, kicking him in the shin and pushing him away.

"Saving your life!" The guy's eyes were crossed and his words were slurred and he was already grabbing for whatever body part was closest, a lecherous smirk on his face, but he was trying to be a hero.

"Thanks. Now run for your life!" Bennett shouted, shoving him away and turning back, trying to get through the press of people to get into the bar again. But it was like fighting a losing battle as people continued to rush out of the bar.

Frustrated, and trying to fight through the press, Bennett saw a young woman go down on her hands and knees. She was covered in blood and people were tripping over her. Reaching down, Bennett pulled her up and dragged her away down the alley. The girl was struggling to stay on her feet and Bennett heard renewed screams behind her. Hurrying even faster, Bennett followed a group of people down another street and then turned down another alley. She heard gunshots somewhere behind them so she didn't slow down, even though she knew she was getting lost and farther away from the bar and Casey.

Frantically searching in the darkness of the street, Bennett felt the girl's sticky warm blood on her own hands and knew they had to get somewhere safe. Fast. Looking up the street ahead, Bennett gasped. There were people running back towards her and she could see why. Three ghosts were coming toward her.

A chill ran up her spine at the sight of the machine guns in their hands. They were wearing grey uniforms that she couldn't identify. And they were all shouting in a foreign language. People were rushing past her and she tried to pull the girl backwards, but she was almost dead weight by now. She knew she needed to get everyone to safety.

Before she could do anything, though, the ghosts lowered their machine guns and prepared to fire.

0117
Ocracoke Beach

Dean was finding that he could ignore the sand and cold so much better now that he could hassle Sam about Becky. That just never got old. He was planning his next line when Sam sat up straighter and smacked Dean on the arm. Dean glared at him, then reached for his shotgun at the warning look on Sam's face. Sam pointed up the beach. They got to their feet at the same time and Dean saw it. A guy stumbling across the sand. They could hear him singing a very off key and drunken cover of Twisted Sister's We're Not Gonna Take It.

Dean grinned and whispered, "Someone just got fired."

Sam shook his head, eyes roving the beach.

"What?" Dean asked, leaning forward and looking around. "You hear something? Besides Twisted Mister there?"

"No."

Dean nodded, and sat back, "Well I'm not the drunk patrol. Free country. Man wants to serenade the seashells, man can do so."

Sam didn't look like he agreed. He said, "Dean, the beach is supposed to be closed after what happened here last night."

"We're here, aren't we?"

"He's not safe." Sam said, standing up. "We need to get him away from the water before something happens."

"What?" Dean rolled his eyes, getting to his feet. "Fine, fine, fine. Ruin a man's midnight stroll…."

Sam had taken exactly one step forward when the drunk's serenade was cut off mid-chorus. And not because he was taking a drink from the bottle in his hand. He stopped singing because something tore his head off. Something invisible.

"Whoa!" Dean exclaimed, jerking backwards. "What the…."

"Ghost?" Sam said, shotgun raised, staring into the darkness at the spot where the unfortunate drunk was being devoured. "It's invisible."

"I can see that." Dean said, then smiled briefly at Sam. "I mean, I can't see that. Whatever."

Sam was heading toward an outcropping of rocks, holding his breath as he stared at the dead man in the sand. Dean was at his shoulder and they pressed back against the rocks, waiting. For a moment, they were still, then the rain started. Dean shook his head, glaring at Sam as if it were his fault. And then he was following Sam's gaze as he stared out at the water. Dean cursed.

The Flaming Ship was sailing again.

"Dean, someone else is out there." Sam drew his attention away from the nightmarish sight. He pointed up the beach where they could just make out a second shape. A human shape.

Dean swore under his breath, "Tourist. Gonna get himself killed. Looks like he's got a rifle. What's he gonna do with that? Big hero."

"Apparently." Sam nodded. "We need to get him out of here."

"Yep." Dean said, stepping forward, then freezing as his phone vibrated in his pocket. He said, "Split up. I'll go parallel to the water; come up behind the invisible man. If he's still there. You get the hero out of the way."

He glanced up at the beach. It was weird that the ghost was remaining completely invisible. Weird and annoying because that just made it so much harder. Dean glanced over at the other man up the beach; whoever the guy was, he had paused a good distance from the scene of the carnage. Dean motioned to Sam to move and they split up. He stole a quick glance at his phone.

Casey.

They had agreed not to call unless it was an absolute emergency. Otherwise they were just meeting back at the cottage. Dean's heart rate doubled and he flipped the phone open.

"Echo?" He whispered, running across the beach and hoping that he wasn't going to get swept off his feet by a tidal wave. Or get his head ripped off by a ghost. Sam had stayed closer to the treeline and was now moving forward toward the guy up the beach. "What's going on?"

"Dean…" Her voice sounded strained.

It was hard to hear her voice over the screams in the background. Dean clenched his fist and asked, "Are you ok? What's happening?"

"It was...an attack." The reception flickered in and out. "...didn't see...but there was…."

"Was what?"

"More than one." Casey said, voice suddenly stronger. "Dean, they...people are...and I can't..."

Dean looked over at Sam and then beyond to the scene of the attack. The guy with the rifle was still walking in their direction. And there was no sign of the invisible attacker of the unfortunate drunk guy. Dean held up his shotgun and tried to concentrate on two things at once.

He asked, "Casey, are you safe?"

"I... but Dean…"

"Get somewhere safe and I'll call you in a minute; got a bit of a ghost problem at the moment." Dean said, stumbling in the sand as he ran along the water's edge.

"Dean!" Casey's voice was desperate.

He watched Sam running toward the man with the rifle. The guy turned and held the weapon in a ready stance, and Dean was afraid he was going to shoot at Sam. But then he just completely vanished. Sam held the shotgun up and turned in a complete circle, searching for the threat. Dean slowed his pace and returned his attention to Casey.

"Casey?"

"It's Bennett." Casey said, sounding more frantic than he'd ever heard her sound, "I can't find her."

"What?" Dean frowned, almost catching up to Sam. "How did…"

"I don't know…" Casey started to explain.

Dean didn't hear the rest of what she had to say because something that seemed like it weighed ten tons rammed into him from the side sending him headlong into the churning surf.