Phantom Traveler
"What time is it?" Dean asked, still confused by sleep.
Sam glanced at the watch on his wrist. "Uh, it's about five forty five." Chris sat herself on the edge of the bed, taking huge gulps of her coffee.
"In the morning!" Dean exclaimed loudly, sharing the same hatred of mornings as his sister did but brother did not. "Be happy you weren't woken up at five in the morning by a giant stomping around." Chris dug her fingers into the corners of her eyes tiredly.
"Where does the day go?" Dean muttered, turning over. He sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. "Did you get any sleep last night?" Chris looked towards Sam worriedly. She suspected he might since he gave her the bed last night without fights instead of the cot still leaning against the wall.
"Yeah, I grabbed a couple hours." Sam said distractedly.
Chris raised an eyebrow, "You sure? You seem more tired then usual."
"He's lying." Dean said, sipping his coffee. "Cause I woke up at three and you were watching a George Foreman informercial."
Sam shrugged innocently, "What can I say, it's riveting TV."
"Sammy," Chris' face screwed up in disgust. "The least you could do is watch something worth watching." Trying to hide her concern. It wasn't healthy to go so long without sleep as he had.
"When was the last time you got a good nights sleep?" Dean asked. It wasn't often a hunter got to sleep well but at least more than Sam was.
Sam shrugged seemingly unconcerned, a hand tucked in his pocket as he sipped his coffee. "I don't know, a little while I guess. It's not a big deal." He said dismissively.
"Dude, of course it's a big deal." Chris insisted, glancing up worriedly from her coffee cup. It wasn't the best coffee, alright, it was horrible, but it woke her up some.
Sam chuckles slightly. "I appreciate your concern-" he trailed off as Dean interrupted. "I'm not concerned about you. It's you're job to keep our asses alive so we need you sharp." Sam shrugged, glancing away.
Chris sighed, looking down at the coffee in her hands. "Let me guess, Jess styled nightmares." Sam slowly sat himself down on the bed Chris had slept on last night, handing the last of the coffees to Dean.
Sam ran a hand down his face tiredly. "But it's not just HDR. It's everything. I just forgot, this job, it gets to you." Chris started twirling a loose strand of hair around her finger.
Dean shook his head, "You can't let it. You can't bring it home like that." Chris started lightly chewing on her bottom lip.
"So what? All this it...never keeps you up at night?" Sam asked. Dean shook his head and Chris shrug. "I'm usually just happy I made it through another day without getting myself killed. Sam reached under Dean's pillow and pulled out an eight inch hunting knife.
Dean took the knife in denial. "That's not fear. That is precaution."
"So precaution leads to a giant hunting knife under your pillow." Chris said.
Dean rolled his eyes, tucking the knife back. "Don't think I don't know about that silver knife you have hidden under your shirt, sweetheart."
"A girl's gotta protect herself." Chris stated, not at all feeling odd since she was probably the only girl in the world that kept a stainless silver pocket knife in her bra.
Their conversation was cut off as Dean's phone started to ring. Dean grabbed it from the bedside table and he answered it despite not recognizing the number. "Hello?" Chris took a sip of her coffee and Dean seemed to realize who exactly was on the other end. "Oh right, up in Kitanning, Pennsylvania, the poltergeist thing. It's not back, is it?" Chris looked up, somebody he'd saved on a case once needed help again? "What is it?" Dean asked confused.
They drove for several hours after that before reaching where they needed to be the next day around midday. "Thanks for making the trip of quick. I ought to be doing you guys a favor, not the other war around. Dean and your dad really helped me out." He explained to Sam.
"Yeah, he told us." Sam said, hands tucked deep into his pockets. "It was a poltergeist."
"Damn, I hate those things." Chris scowled. Last one she met when she was nineteen nearly destroyed the apartment building she lived in.
A man passing seemed excited about it. "Poltergeist? Man, I loved that movie!"
"Try living it." Chris muttered from between her siblings.
"Hey, nobody's talking to you, keep walking!" Jerry snapped. "Last thing they needed was for a civilian to stop wanting to talk about the movie they weren't talking about. "Damn right it was a poltergeist, practical tore our house apart. Tell you something, if it wasn't for you and your dad, I probably wouldn't be alive." Jerry glanced at Sam over his shoulder. "Your dad said you were off at college, is that right?"
Sam swallowed, looking away. "Yeah, I was. I'm...taking some time off." He finished awkwardly. Chris felt sullen remembering exactly why he had to take that time off. Poor Jessica.
"Well he was real proud of you. I could tell. He talked about you all the time."
"He did?" Sam said surprised although Chris wondered why. You had to be genius smart to get into a college line Stanford, even more so on a full ride.
"You bet he did. And Chris? Hmmm," he thought for a minute. "Now that I think about it...he didn't mention you. Honestly, I didn't know John even had a daughter."
Chris looked away. She knew he'd probably never mentioned her since abandoning her but it still hurt. "Somehow, that doesn't surprise me."
As if sensing the awkwardness the conversation had brought, Jerry quickly changed the subject. "I tried to get a hold of you're dad but I couldn't. How's he doing, anyway?"
"He's um," it took two moments for Dean to decide what to say. "Wrapped up in a job right now." Chris memorized that detail in mind for this case in case it came back up again.
Jerry didn't seem to concern after that. "Well, we're missing the old man but we get Sam and Chris. Even trade, huh?" Dean laughed.
Sam smiled slightly, still high off of Jerry admitting his dad didn't absolutely hate him. "No, not by a long shot." Sam admitted.
Chris pouted, "I don't know. I think we can be pretty good." Putting her hands on her hips. The three seemed to work great together. Dean with his muscle and heart for saving people. Sam with his brains and puppy dog eyes. Chris for her weaponry skills and being that shoulder to talk to.
"I got something I want you guys to hear." Jerry said, grabbing a chair against the wall and leading them into his office. Dean, Sam, and Chris sat in their chairs waiting for Jerry to explain. "I listen to this and it sounds like it was up your alley. Chris watched closely as Jerry put a CD into his computer. "Normally I wouldn't have access to this." Chris smirked, the Winchester's weren't exactly strangers against the law. "It's the cockpit voice recorder for United Britannia flight two four eight five. It's one of ours."
The recording started with the clear panic of the captain's voice. "Mayday! Mayday! Repeat! This is United Britannia two four eight five. Immediate instruction help! United Britannia two four eight five. I copy your message. May be experiencing some mechanical failure..." Then a bunch of static until Jerry flicked it off. As it turned it off, not gave it the finger.
"Took off from here, crashed about two hundred miles south. Now, they're saying mechanical failure. Cabin depressurized somehow. Nobody knows why. Over a hundred people on board. Only seven got out alive. Pilot was one. His name is Chuck Lambert. He's a good friend of mine. Chuck is, uh...well, he's pretty broken up about it. Like it was his fault."
Chris raised her eyebrow noticing the wording he'd used. "And you believing it wasn't."
"I don't, it wasn't his fault." Jerry agreed with a nod.
Sam started requesting what they would need. "Jerry, we're gonna need passenger manifests, um, a list of survivors." Jerry nodded saying he could get that.
"And we kinda need something else." Chris said cautiously.
"What's that?" Jerry asked.
"We need to see the wreckage, see if there's anything we may notice that could have actually caused it." Chris explained.
"The other stuff is no problem but the wreckage...the NTSB has it locked down in an evidence warehouse. No way I've got that kind of clearance."
An hour later, "Where have you been?" Sam scowled as Chris came back after she ditched him. He'd been waiting by the car for what seemed like forever.
"Where do you think?" Chris said, pulling the orange flavored sucker from her mouth. "I wasn't going to sit here forever waiting."
Sam looked at her in disbelief. "You left me standing here for candy?"
Chris looked at him like it should be obvious, taking the lollipop from her mouth. "Why else would I leave?"
At that moment, Dean came walking out the nearby building with three new identification cards in hand. "You've been in there forever." Sammy complained.
"He's in a complaining mood today." Chris said, popping the sucker back in her mouth.
If Dean wondered about the candy, he didn't comment. Instead he held out three badges with their faces and different names on them grinning. "You can't rush perfection."
"Homeland Security?" Sam said surprised. He took two of the ID's and passed one to Chris. According to this, her name was Candace White and an intern which would explain why there was three of them instead of the more common two. "That's pretty illegal, even for us."
Chris flashed a grin, "I don't know, I kinda like it. Something new that we haven't used over and over again."
The three climbed in the car to talk in privacy. "Alright, so what do you got?" Dean asked as Chris scooted to the edge of her seat in the back with her arms crossed over the front bench style seat.
"A bag of suckers." Chris said distractedly. It was her latest sweet obsession which was better then drinking. She'd seen what drinking to much did to people and she was not going to turn out like that.
"Not what I meant." Dean said. "Sam?"
"While...miss lolli over there was shopping, I found EVP on the cockpit voice recorder." He pressed the play button and the new version of the tape was played. Full of static, it crackled, "No survivors."
"No survivors? What's that supposed to mean, there were seven survivors." Dean said.
Sam shook his head, "Got me."
"So we have a haunted flight on our hands? Great." Chris sighed. She didn't have great memories of planes, they were always taken her to a foster home worse than the last.
Sam shrugged. "There's a long history of spirits and death omens on planes and ships, like phantom travelers."
"Remember flight four oh one." Sam said.
"Flight oh what?" Chris asked, finishing off her candy.
"This hunter dad met when we were kids heard of a case similar to this." Dean explained. "The airline salvaged parts of a plane that crashed and put it into other planes. Then the spirit of the pilot and copilot haunted those flights."
"Maybe we got a similar deal." Sam suggested.
"So now what!? Let's go talk to survivors, whose first?" Chris fell back into her seat.
"Third on the list: Max Jaffery." Sam handed the list of survivors over to Dean.
Dean scanned the list of names while Chris looked over his shoulder. "Why him?"
Sam explained. "Well for one, he's from around here. And two, if anyone saw anything weird, he did."
Chris looked at him curiously. "What makes you think that, he's just another name out of the seven we have."
"Well I spoke to his mother and she told me where to find him." Sam said. Several long minutes passed before they pulled into Riverfront Psychiatric Hospital.
"We need to see Max Jeffery." Chris told the lady behind the desk, flashing their badges with Dean and Sam steps behind her.
"Jaffery?" The woman corrected before a nurse showed them where Max was. He was walking around the back garden having to use a cane to walk.
After introducing who they falsely were, "I don't understand. I already spoke with homeland security." Max said confused, limping them to a nearby table.
"Right, some new information came up." Dean said not even lying. New information did come up if they needed hunters on this case instead of the normal Feds.
"We just need a couple of questions answered, make sure we have all our facts straight." Chris explained, taking a seat across from him.
"Just before the plane went down, did you notice anything...unusual?" Sam asked, trying to make it sound like they weren't completely crazy which is what most people thought after coming in contact with the Winchester family.
Max looked at them confused. "Like what?"
"Strange lights, weird noises, maybe voices." Dean listed exactly of an ordinary haunting.
"No, nothing." Max said. They were losing him.
"Mr. Joffey." Chris started.
"Jaffey." Max corrected.
"Jeffry." Chris agreed. "May I ask why you checked yourself in a psychiatric hospital?" Normal plane crash victims didn't sign themselves into mental hospitals.
Max looked at them and said like it should be obvious. "I was a little stressed. I survived a plane crash."
"And that's what terrified you." Dean said. There had to be more to the story then just a simple plane crash survivor. "That's what you were afraid of."
Max glanced around biting his lip and moved to the edge of his chair. "I...I don't want to talk about this anymore." Max stuttered, typical for someone who thought they were crazy but really weren't.
Dean pushed on, "See, I think maybe you did see something up there. We need to know what."
Max shakily shook his head, "No. No, I was...delusional. Seeing things." He insisted, probably what he told himself a million times since it happened.
"He was seeing things." Dean laughed, ridiculous in their line of business.
"It's okay." Sam said with his puppy dog eyes look. "They just tell us what you thought you saw...please."
Max looked hesitant before answering, "There was...this man. And uh," he gestured towards his face. "He had these eyes. Black eyes." Chris straightened up. Now they were getting somewhere. "And I saw him, or I thought I saw him..." He trailed off.
"Max, may I call you Max." Chris continued on without waiting for a response. "Can you tell us what happened next?"
Max slowly nodded. "He opened the emergency exit. But that's...that's impossible, right? I mean, I looked it up. There's something like two tons of pressure on that door."
Sam coughed lightly to get attention. "This man, uh, did he seem to appear and disappear rapidly? It would look something like a mirage?"
Now Max was positive they were crazy. "What are you, nuts? He was a passenger. He was sitting right in front of me." Chris' eyes widened. A passenger with black eyes? The first thing that came to mind was demon possession but that only happened a couple times a year. The last one she faced was three years ago who took possession of her elderly cat loving neighbor.
Their next stop was the home of George Phelps, the man that had opened the emergency door. Sam looked at the information on his list. "So here we are. George Phelps, seat 20C."
"Man, I don't care how strong you are." Dean said as they climbed out the impala. The family started up the walkway. The house looked like something someone with the apple pie life may have. "Even yoked up on PCP or something, no way you can open an emergency door during a flight."
"No human could anyway." Chris said as they reached the porch. "This could be a shapeshifter turned human or well...anything really, anybody but a person. Maybe even a witch that used magic to make himself stronger or the door lighter."
"But aren't witches usually girls." Dean said.
Chris shrugged, "It's not unheard of for a male to make deals for magic." Then Sam knocked on the door.
Chris shifted on the worn couch her and her brother's sat on. Mrs. Phelps, the man's wife sat in the chair before them, dabbing her tearful eyes. "This is your late husband?" Sam asked, seeing the picture of a man in his fifties with grey hair and a bald spot.
Mrs. Phelps nodded, looking like she was about to burst into tears at any moment. "Yes, that was my George."
"And you said he was a...dentist?" Dean asked cautiously. You had to admit, a dentist didn't seem much like a monster bump in the night creature."
Mrs. Phelps nodded sorrowful. "He was headed to a convention in Denver." She looked at them with the most pitiful expression. "Do you know that he was petrified to fly? For him to go out like that..." She shook her head desperately.
"Mrs. Phelps." Chris asked innocently. "I'm curious...how long were you married?" Maybe they married within the last few years just so this guy could fool everyone into believing he was human. Nobody would question in with a human housewife.
"Thirteen years." Mrs. Phelps smiled shakily, clutching the handkerchief between her hands in her lap. Damn, that was an awful long time for a creature to marry a human just to hide. Maybe something else was going on around here...but what it was she didn't know.
Sam leaned forward, "In all that time, did you ever notice anything...strange about him, anything out of the ordinary?"
The woman looked at them confused, like what her husband could possibly have to make them question. "Um...he had acid reflux if that's what you mean." The Winchester's looked at each other. This was getting them nowhere.
Chris was the first to stand after their questioning was over. This house with the grieving widow was making her stir crazy. Outside with no one to hear them did they start discussing it. "I mean it goes without saying. It just doesn't make any sense."
"A lot of people would say what we do for a living doesn't make any sense." Chris commented as they reached the car.
"A middle aged dentist with an ulcer is not exactly evil personified." Dean said, opening his car door. "You know what we need to do is get into that NTSB warehouse, check out the wreckage."
"Aright," Chris clapped her hands together. "How are we going to do this?" Most people would have asked if he was crazy or joking or wondered if they should call the cops or try to talk him out of it. She didn't. She took it without batting an eye.
"Well first, we need to look the part." Sam said. Chris groaned, she hated 'looking the part'. Goodbye boots, cargo jeans, tank top, and jacket with endless pockets.
"Have I told you how much I hate this." Chris asked scowling, meeting back with her brothers. Dean and Sam were dressed in black pants, jackets, shoes, and white shirts. Chris was almost identical except for the knee length skirt she wore. She had unhappily let the saleswoman pull her hair into a professional looking bun.
"Only a dozen times since we left Mrs. Phelps." Sam answered, adjusting his collar.
"You hate it? I look like one of the Blues Brothers." Dean complained, messing with his jacket.
"No you don't. You look more like a..." Sam couldn't help himself, "Seventh grader at his first dance." Chris snorted with laughter, for a minute forgetting like she was a strict headmistress at a prestigious school in her pressed uniform and forceful bun of hair.
"...I hate this thing." Dean grumbled as they reached the impala parked a few blocks down, walking awkwardly in their new getups
"Hey, you want into that warehouse or not?" Sam demanded as Dean started up the car.
"The things we do for a hunt." Chris picked at her nails as they parked outside the warehouse holding the plane. All it took was a suit and shiny fake badges for the officer inside to let them have entrance.
The plane wreckage was a heap of junk that took most of the space. Chris was casually running a finger over the side of the plane's body. Nothing but dust came off in her hand. "What is that?" Sam asked as Dean put on headphones connected to a strange device. Chris traveled closer curiously.
Dean barely glanced up before looking back down at the weird looking device. "It's an EMF meter. Reads electromagnetic frequencies."
"Dean, I would hope everyone hear knows what an EMF meter is." Chris said. "I mean, that's like hunter 101."
"What I want to know is why that one looks like a busted up Walkman?" Sam asked, pointing at the mess in Dean's hand.
"Cause that's what I made it out of. It's homemade." Dean said, grinning clearly proud of himself.
"Yeah, I can see that." San smirked in brotherly teasing as Dean's smile dropped into a scowl.
"Does it actually work?" Chris asked curiously, poking at it cautiously with the tip of her fingernail. As if expecting it to attack her at any given moment.
"Of course it does, wouldn't have it if it didn't." Dean insisted, running it I've thought emergency door. It didn't make a sound but Dean noticed something else. Yellow dust speckled across the door. "Check out the emergency door handle." Dean scratched at it sticking to the door. "What is this stuff?"
"One way to find out." Sam said, pulling a zip block bag from his coat pocket.
"Let me." Chris slipped out one of her shoes and pulled out an iron made nail file that she never actually used on her nails.
At the security desk, two men in black suits showed up and showed the officer their homeland security badges. The man raised an eyebrow, "Homeland Security? What, three of you weren't enough?"
One of the agents asked as they put their ID's away in the inside of their jackets. "What are you talking about?"
"Two of your buddies and their intern just went inside not five minutes ago." The officer said like they should know that. It took mere moments to realize neither group knew exactly who these people were and another minute to go rushing down the hall with alarms blaring and guns drawn.
"Hurry up." Chris hissed. Dean threw his jacket over the barbed wire fence and climbed up. Chris jumped high, clinging to the suit while Sam pushed her up by her foot when she started to slide back, being that she was several inches shorter then her brothers. Chris swung a leg over and jumped to the ground knees bent, after hiking up her skirt to her thighs of course for more leg room. Sam was quick to follow over.
Dean jumped up the few inches to snatch his jacket off the rail so they wouldn't have anything to track them by. "Well these monkey suits do come in handy." Dean said with excited surprise.
At that moment, at the airport, Chuck, the pilot from the plane crash was breathing heavily. His copilot was trying to help him get back into flight by practicing the smaller two engine plane they had. "Listen, Chuck. It's like getting back on a horse. Only in this case, a little twin engine. Not even a horse, more like a pony. I'll be right there with you too. Anytime you feel like you don't want the wheel, I'll take over. Look, Chuck, we don't have to do this today. I'm not trying to rush you."
Chuck shook his head shakily. "No, the...waiting is worse."
The copilot looked out the window behind them towards the plane. "Okay, they're filling up the tank. Then we go." He left to find out exactly how much longer it would be.
Chuck sipped his drink nervously. He didn't even notice the pile of back smoke leaving the vent above his head. But he did notice when he breathed in deeply and it filled his nose and mouth. Chuck's eyes flashed fully back for a moment before returning to normal. A nasty smirk filled his lips.
In Jerry's office, Jerry was looking through a microscope to the yellow flecks they found. Hooked to his computer told him exactly what it was. "This stuff is covered in sulfur." Jerry noticed surprise. It wasn't everyday sulfur was found lying around.
"You're sure?" Sam asked. Only one thing Chris knew would leave something like sulfur in its wake.
"Take a look for yourself." He pushed his chair away from the desk. Then came the sounds of someone screaming and a lot of banging. Jerry sighed and stood up. "If you'll excuse me, I have an idiot to fire." Jerry looked irritated as he walked out to confront his soon to be ex-employee. "Hey. Einstein. Yeah, you. What the heck you doing? Put the wrench down—"
"You know, there's not too many things that leave behind a sulfuric residue." Dean said.
"Demonic possession?" Sam guessed.
"It's the only thing I can think of." Chris said, leaning against the table.
"And it explains how a mortal man would have the strength to open up an emergency hatch." Dean said.
Sam looked away from the sulfur."If this guy was possessed, it's possible."
"I guess a demon finally got out of his old fashion ways of killing one by one." Chris bit at her nails.
"Possessing a person to take down an entire plane?" Dean shook his head.
"Either of you ever heard of something like this before?" Sam asked looking towards his family.
Dean shook his head, "Never."
Chris picked at her nails, "Don't look at me. I've only done...phantom travelers like once and it was a boat during my senior class trip."
At the airport, the copilot was waiting patiently by a small two engine plane. Chuck came out and the pilot briefly wondered if he was on drugs or took something for the flight. Chuck had been having a near panic attack but now he seemed relax and cold as a cucumber, grinning brightly and a hop in his step. "I'm ready, let's do this." Chuck declared proudly.
The plane was in flight for several minutes before the copilot finally asked, "How you feeling?" They seemed to be doing alright since Chuck wasn't panicking.
"I feel great!" Chuck said proudly as they flew over what seemed like dozens of farmland.
The copilot nodded relieved that he seemed back to normal, to how he was before the crash. "You'll be back flying jumbo's before you know it."
"I hope so, how long we been up?" Chuck asked with a more then curious smirk.
"Um..." The copilot looked at the watch on his wrist. "Almost forty minutes."
"Wow, time really does fly." Chuck grinned, eyes flashing back. He suddenly made the plane dive towards the farmlands they were flying over.
"What are you doing?" The copilot cried desperately as he tried to pull them back up. But demon chuck wasn't having it. He rammed his elbow as hard as a human could into the copilots face, knocking him out instantly. The copilot slumped over as Chuck's eyes turned solid black. The plane crashed into the farmlands below near a man riding passed on a tractor.
"This is very annoying." Chris said huffing in their motel room of the month. She angrily dammed the book she'd swiped from the local library closed. Their room was covered with printout articles taped across the wall and more slung across the beds. Chris sat cross legged at the foot of a bed.
Sam looked up from his laptop. "So, every religion in every world culture has the concept of demons and demonic possession, right? I mean Christian, Native American, Hindu, you name it."
"But none of them describes anything like this." Dean protested.
"I don't know." Chris said, falling back among the papers on her bed. "My foster father when I was twelve, left me home to go on a cruise. He never came back because the boat mysteriously sunk and all the lifeboats had gone missing so nobody made it off alive. At the time I didn't think anything like this was involved but maybe it was a...phantom traveler?"
Dean stopped and looked up, "Wait, he left you there...alone?" Sure, dad had left them to hunt but it had always been the two of them, never just one.
Chris shrugged seemingly uncaring. "It was a vacation for both of us. He wasn't that great a dad anyway and I was better off without him." He had at least never attacked her but he wasn't to kind either, clearly more interested in the child service checks he got every month. "So Sammy, what'd you found out?" Wanting to move this away from her past as soon as possible.
"Um, right," Sam coughed, looking back down to his computer to remember what he'd been talking about, "According to Japanese beliefs, certain demons are behind certain disasters, both natural and man-made. One causes earthquakes, another causes disease."
"And this one causes plane crashes?" Dean scoffed.
"A demon that realized we no longer live in biblical or prehistoric times anymore." Chris guessed, rolling onto her stomach.
"Who knows how many planes it's brought down before this one" Sam said, quickly something on his computer. Chris sat up, unable to get comfortable as Dean scoffed, turning away. "What?"
Dean shook his head, "I don't know. This isn't our normal gig. I mean, demons, they don't want anything. Just Dean and destruction for its own sake."
"Well nothing says destruction like a plane crash." Chris said, crossing her legs.
Dean sighed, putting a hand to his face. "I wish dad was here."
"Yeah, me to." Sam sighed.
Chris huffed, looking away. "Well he's not. We've been doing pretty good, we can stop this thing ourselves.
Before Dean could argue, his phone started to ring. Dean pulled it from his pocket looking confused. "Hello?" He asked. "Oh, hey Jerry. What? ...Jerry, I'm sorry. What happened? ...where'd this happen? ...I'll try to ignore the irony in that. Nothing. Jerry, just hang in there, alright? We'll catch up with you soon." He hung up.
"Why don't I like the sound of that." Chris sighed, pulling on her boots.
"Another crash?" Sam asked, already closing his computer.
"Yeah, let's go." Dean said already standing, grabbing his car keys from the table.
"So where are we going anyway?" Chris asked as they met at the door.
"Nazareth." Was all Dean said.
An hour passed before they found themselves in Nazareth. There was still dark black smoke in the sky. "Sulfur?" Dean asked Jerry who was looking in his microscope again. Jerry silently nodded.
"Of course it is." Chris sighed. "So what, two plane crashes and both have Chuck Lambert on it?"
"So the demon was after him then." Dean guessed.
"With all due respect to Chuck. if that's the case, that would be the good news." Sam said.
Chris leaned against the desk, "Why does this feel like there will be bad news next?"
Sam held up the police reports of the crash. "Chuck's plane went down exactly forty minutes into flight. And get this, so did two four eighty five."
Chris said, "Of course it would be forty minutes." Forty, meaning biblical numerology.
"Forty minutes? What does that mean?" Jerry asked.
"It's biblical numerology." Dean explained. "You know Noah's ark. It rained for forty days. The number means death."
"Which sucks for us. Forty is never a good number when the supernatural are involved." Chris said.
Sam came over from what he was looking up on his computer, "I went back, and there have been six plane crashes over the last decade that all went down exactly forty minutes in."
"Any survivors?"
"No," Sam shook his head. "Or not until now at least, not until flight two four eighty five for some reason. On the cockpit voice recorder, remember what the EVP said."
"No survivors." Dean recited.
Chris' mind started going away with her. "Guys, no survivors? What if it was an accident, what if there was a mistake and there was supposed to be no survivors. Now this thing is pissed and..." She trailed off.
"It's going after all the survivors." Dean finished. "It's tying to finish off the job."
In the impala, they were now driving quickly towards the airport their hunt started at. Chris stayed quiet in the backseat, sucking on another candy while Sam was on the phone. "Really? Well, thank you for taking our survey, And if you do plan to fly, please don't forget your friends at United Britannia Airlines. Thanks." Sam hung up. "All right. That takes care of Blaine Sanderson and Dennis Holloway. They're not flying anytime soon."
"So our only wildcard is the flight attendant Amanda a Walker." Dean clarified.
"Of course one of the survivors would work on a plane." Chris said, going over everything she knew about demons.
"Her sister Karen said her flight leaves Indianapolis at eight PM. It's her first night back on the job." Sam said, sliding his phone back into his pocket.
"That sounds like just our luck." Dean said.
"Um, isn't that like a five hour drive. We'd never make it." Chris protested, looking over their map.
Dean shook his head, starting to speed up. "Call Amanda's cellphone again, see if we can't head her off at the pass."
Sam shook his head, "I already left her three voice messages. She must have turned her cellphone off." He looked at the time. "God, we're never gonna make it."
"We can't just give up. She's going into a death trap and doesn't even know it!" Chris exclaimed from he back.
"We will make it." Dean said firmly, breaking every traffic law known to man in getting to that airport miles away.
It was late at night when the Winchester's were found literally running into the airport. "We're not going to have time!" Chris exclaimed as they looked around completely loss.
"We still have thirty minutes!" Sam protested.
"We need to find a phone." Dean said, grabbing one of those phones hanging on the wall for workers to talk to each other.
"Airport services." The voice said as his siblings crowded him to hear.
"Hi, gate thirteen." Dean said quickly, looking jittery.
Chris could barely hear the voice answering as she pressed up against Dean to hear. "Who are you calling, sir?"
"I'm trying to contact an Amanda Walker. She's a flight attendant on flight um..." He thought for several long moments as Chris' foot started bouncing up and down nervously. "Flight four two four."
Several long moments passed and Chris' heart picked up the pace like it usually did when she was near to losing someone she could save. Then a female voice finally answered. "This is Amanda Walker." This voice sounded the way only a flight attendant could master.
Dean quickly said his on the thought on the spot lie. "Hi, this is Dr. James Hetfield from St. Francis Memorial Hospital. We have a Karen Walker here."
"Karen?" Amanda asked horrified.
Dean quickly calmed her, "Nothing serious, just a minor car accident but she was injured, so..." "Let's move this on,' Chris thought. The plane would take off soon.
Amanda stuttered confused. "That's impossible. I just got off the phone with her.
Chris froze and Dean did the same. Oops. "You what?" Dean stuttered.
"Five minutes ago, she's at her house cramming for a final. Who is this?"
Dean stuttered again. Chris gave him a look that said, do something you idiot. "There must be some mistake." He finished lamely. Chris rolled her eyes, throwing up her arms.
"And how would you even know I was here?" Amanda demanded, starting to get pissed. Sam tried moving Chris aside so he could hear better but she harshly elbowed him in his stomach. "Is this one of Vince's friends?"
Who was Vince? But Dean quickly agreed and went along with it. "Guilty as charged."
Amanda huffed. "Wow, that is unbelievable!" Amanda exclaimed. Clearly she's been sheltered most of her life.
"He's really sorry." Dean lied. Last thing they needed was to get involved into a lovers spat.
Amanda clearly wasn't hearing it, "Well, you tell him to mind his own business and stay out of my life, okay?"
Dean quickly tried to make her get off the plane without bold face telling her. "Yeah, but...he really needs to see you tonight so..."
"No, I'm sorry. It's too late." Amanda said firmly, sounding like she was about to hang up. Chris pushed Dean, making a motion with her hand to keep her talking. They had to convince her somehow.
"Don't be like that. Come on." The lies spilt from Dean's tongue easily. "The guy's a mess. Really, it's pathetic?"
"...Really?" She asked hopeful. Seeing this, Dean pushed on, quickly agreeing. Amanda said, "Look, I've got to go. Um...tell him to call him when I land." Chris looked panicked as Amanda hung up, ignoring Dean's protests. Shit, if the demon had it his way, she would never make it to the next landing. She could possibly die in forty minutes.
"Damn it, so close!" Dean cursed, angrily slamming the phone down.
"Thank you for flying United Britannia Airlines." The intercom said on command.
"Okay guys, what's plan B?" Chris asked, mind already running different scenarios.
Seconds passed before Sam answered with, "We're getting on that plane."
Chris felt herself pale a little but nodded. "Shit, I was afraid of that." She'd been on planes before and flying didn't scare her. But getting on a plane she knew was going to crash was short of suicide if they couldn't stop it.
"Whoa, now just hold on a second." Dean said quickly. He was wide eyed and paler then Chris had ever seen him before.
"Dean, that plane is leaving with over a hundred passengers on board, and if we're right, that plane is gonna crash." Sam said, trying to talk him into it.
"I know." Dean said.
"So let's get ready." Chris said, clasping her hands together. "Sam can get the tickets and we can go to the trunk and find whatever we can get through security. Meet here in five?"
The siblings split up only to come back together seconds later when Dean didn't move. He was to busy glancing around anxiously, sweating and pale faced. "Are you okay?" Sam asked.
"...No, not really?" Dean admitted.
Chris looked at him in disbelief. "Dude, what's wrong? We got a plane to catch."
Dean glanced everywhere but at them. "That's the problem!" Dean exclaimed, unable to stand still.
Chris looked at him confused but Sam realized the problem soon enough. "...flying?" He asked cautiously.
"It's never been an issue until now!" Dean wailed. Chris felt her eyebrows rise. Here was her fearless big brother looking like he was about to wet himself over a plane flight.
"You're joking, right?" Sam asked, trying to fight a smile. It wasn't often Dean admitted something was wrong.
"Do I look like I'm joking? Why do you think I drive everywhere?" Dean hissed desperately.
Chris shrugged, "I just figured it was easier...with all our stuff in the trunk. Plus you would never leave your baby." Not even half a year together and Chris knew Dean was practically in love with that car.
"How about this, Chris and I can go?" Sam suggested. Chris nodded in agreement.
"What?" Dean asked, looking at them like they were insane.
"We'll just do this one." Sam said.
"We'll be fine. Not like we haven't been in life or death situations before." Chris commented. She glanced at the clock on the wall nervously. They were cutting it close already.
"Are you nuts?" Dean demanded. "You said it yourself, the plane's gonna crash!" People passing thought Dean was either nuts or having a mental breakdown. Same thing pretty much.
"And everyone on it is going to die if we don't do something like now." Chris said, jiggling her foot nervously.
Sam noticed the time and said firmly, "Dean, we can do it together, or Chris and I can do this one. I'm not seeing a third option, here."
"Come on, really!" Dean exclaimed. Their trunk got considerably heavier after Chris did full inventory of everything she had on her and ditched her weapons. The boys gapped as she pulled weapon after weapon out of seemingly impossible or unthinkable places.
"What?" She asked, seeing their stares after she pulled a machete from the back of her shirt.
On the flight, someone from the intercom spoke, "Flight attendants, please cross check before departure."
"Just try to relax." Sam said. Dean was in the aisle seat clutching at his armrests breathing hard even though they hadn't taken off yet. Sam sat in the middle seat after losing to Chris who shoved him aside for the window seat.
"Just try to shut up." Dean snarled.
Sam laughed at his brother's misfortune. "Stop antagonizing him Sammy. It's not gonna help." Chris said waving a dismissive hand as she flipped through a magazine she found in the bag of the woman in the row in front of her. She felt strangely naked without any weapons on her despite being fully clothed.
After they took off, Sam looked over at Dean. "You're humming Metallica?" Sam asked.
Chris looked up smirking, "He's humming Metallica?"
"Calms me down." Dean said simply, head against the headrest and eyes squeezed shut with fingernails digging into the armrests.
Sam sighed and did his thing to cam people, puppy dog eyes and all. "Look man, I get you're nervous, alright! But we have to stay focused."
Dean shakily nodded, "Okay."
"Guys, not to break up this little love fest or anything but we have like," Chris stopped to glance at her watch and started flipping magazine pages again. "Thirty two minutes to find this demon and do an exorcism on a crowded plane."
Dean snorted, "Yeah, that's gonna be easy."
"We'll just take it one step at a time." Sam decided. "First step, who is it possessing."
Dean glanced around nervously, hands not letting loose on the armrests."It's usually gonna be somebody with some sort of weakness, a chink in the armor that the demon can worm through. Somebody with an addiction or some sort of emotions distress."
Chris raised an eyebrow, "You mean like a hunter having a panic attack over a plane flight." A smile played on her lips.
Dean looked startled and glared at her. "That is so not even funny."
"Well I'd be pretty messed up if I was Amanda." Sam interrupted their staring match around him. "This is her first fight after the crash."
Dean stopped a blonde flight attendant helping someone in the next row. "Excuse me, are you Amanda?" Well that was one way to find out.
"No, I'm not." The flight attendant said with that irritating perky smile.
"Oh, my mistake." Dean plastered a nervous smile on his face. The woman nodded smiling before continuing on.
"How is it that every plane ride I've ever been on, the flight attendants always have the same perkiness?" Chris demanded, closing her magazine.
"Doesn't matter." Dean moved on. "That must be Amanda back there." The other blonde at the back of the pain fixing drinks and such. "So I'll go talk to her and uh, get a read on her mental state." He shakily undid his seatbelt.
"What if she's already possessed?" Sam asked.
"I guess there's one way to find out." Chris said. Dean reached into the duffle back and pulled out a bottle of holy water. "Well that'll be fun to explain if she's not."
Sam grabbed the bottle and casually tucked it into his coat as to not being attention to it. "No, I think we can go more subtle. If she's possessed, she'll flinch at the name of God."
"Oh...nice," Dean grinned as he realized that would be better. When the plane didn't explode as he moved, he cautiously stood.
Chris leaned over to Sam, "He does know the Latin version, right?"
"Hey." Sam stopped Dean before he could leave.
"What?" Dean came back confused.
"Say it in Latin." Sam explained.
"I know," Dean said like it was obvious, trying to leave again. Dean tried to leave again but Sam made him come back. Dean had a pissed off look on his face as he came back.
"The Latin version is 'Christo'" Chris said. Not looking up from the sports car in he magazine.
"I know, I'm not an idiot!" Dean snapped. Chris shook her head smiling and leaned back in her seat.
Sam glanced over at Chris, "How are you so calm?" She looked cool as a cucumber sitting there casually flipped through her stolen magazine.
Chris smiled not looking up, "Trust me, looking calm is key. Even knowing what we know about this plane. Believe me when I say I'm panicking on the inside." Which was true. Her heart was pounding and her hands sweating and nerves going throughout her body.
At that moment, Dean returned angrily sitting down as he quickly buckled back up. That was a bust then. "Well?" Chris asked, did he find the demon.
Dean shook his head. "She's got to be the most well adjusted person on the planet."
"You said Christo?" Sam asked. Dean nodded and didn't say anything else.
"...Well?!" Chris demanded, trying and failing not to notice how panicked she was. She wasn't afraid of flying. She was more afraid of knowing they could die in about twenty six minutes if they didn't do something.
Dean shook his head, There's no demon in her. There's no demon getting in her." Chris looked startled. How could a plane crash survivor not be afraid after being on another plane?
"So if it's on the plane. It can be anyone. Anywhere." Sam said, glancing around suspiciously.
"I guess we'll have to find out who then." Chris said, tossing aside the magazine. She reached for the bag where their EMF's were, one of the few things they got through security. Before she could get them out, the plane violently shook.
"Come on! That can't be normal!" Dean wailed, getting some attention from those nearby.
It would almost be funny if there wasn't a demon on the plane trying to crash it. "Hey, hey, it's just a little turbulence."
"Sam, this plane is going to crash, okay? So quit treating me like I'm friggen four!"
"Dean," Chris snapped firmly. "You have got to calm down before you cause these people to panic. Then how are we going to do what we have to."
"Well I'm sorry if I can't." Dean snarled. He was nearly ready to rip the armrests off from his hard he was gripping them.
"Yes, you can." Sam protested.
Dean scowled darkly, "Dude, stow the touchy-feely, self-help yoga crap, it's not helping."
Chris leaned over Sam. "Well panicking like you are isn't going to help get rid of this thing."
"Plus you're a likely victim of demonic possession if you can't calm yourself down. Right now." Sam said. Dean squeezed his eyes shut, clenched the armrests, leaned his head against the headrest, knowing they were right. He took a large shattering breath. "Good. Now, I found an exorcism in here that I think is gonna work. The Rituale Romanum." He flipped through a book.
Dean glanced down at the book, "What do we have to do?"
"It's two parts." Sam explained. "The first part expels the demon from the victim's body. It makes it manifest which actually makes it more powerful."
Chris raised an eyebrow, "And we want it more powerful?"
Sam nodded, "Yeah."
Dean looked at him confused. "How is it stronger?"
"Well it doesn't need to possess someone anymore. It can wreak havoc on its own."
Chris scoffed. "Yeah, I can see why we'd wanna do that." She said sarcastically.
Sam rolled his eyes. "It's the second part that'll work. It sends the bastard back to hell once and for all."
Chris started to grin as she realized what he meant with this whole ritual thing. "And we'll never have to worry about it coming back for more plane crashes."
"Well first we have to find it before anything else." Dean said. That was how Chris found herself waiting by the bathroom as Dean and Sam walked up and down the plane. She was glancing at the EMF half hidden in her coat. Chris flashed an innocent smile at people as they went in and came out.
"Excuse me, you waiting for the bathroom?" A man asked. This was the tenth time she'd been asked this question and it was waning on her nerves.
"Course not, go ahead." Chris said quickly, squeezing passed the blonde man in his early twenties. She cursed how close these rows of seats were before heading to find her brothers.
She found the boys passed the curtain and in the middle of the plane. "Anything, boys?" Chris asked, surprising them since she'd come up behind. Dean looked like he'd done near had another panic attack.
"Nothing," the two said.
"How much time we got?" Dean asked.
Sam looked at his watch, "Fifteen minutes. Maybe we missed somebody."
"We've been up and down this plane. Who could we have possibly missed?" Chris asked. She looked around like someone they missed would mysteriously appear and their EMF's would mysteriously go off.
"Maybe the thing's just not on the plane." Dean suggested.
"You believe that?" Sam asked, carefully holding his EMF inside his pocket.
Dean shrugged helplessly. "Well I will if you will."
Chris shook her head, hair falling messily around her shoulders. "Sorry boys. When have we ever had a case that easy?" At that moment, all their of their EMF's started to spike, the red building up due to a supernstural presence.
The bathroom in front and right outside the pilot's room opened up. One of the copilots stepped out. Chris swallowed hard, "Please don't tell me that's what I think it is."
Sam looked down after hearing her, "What? What is it?" And he was supposed to be the smart one.
Dean answered with a whispered, "Christo." The copilot looked at them with an almost sinister smile. His eyes were solid black. Made sense a demon would want to shake things up. It was easier to crash a plane you were controlling instead of just being a passenger. But Damn. The copilot didn't seemed threatened by their presence. He just went back into the pilot's room. A demon was driving the plane and ultimately...planning their doom. Fourteen more minutes.
The Winchester's looked at each other. "How are we going to stop this now? How are we going to get to him. We can't do it in there. Not with the other pilot flying the plane." Chris whispered to her brother's, trying not to draw to much attention to themselves.
"...We need Amanda's help." Dean decided, already moving to the back of the plane.
Chris stared at his back in disbelief. "What?" She asked louder then necessary.
Chris quickly followed. Sam was half a step behind her. "She's not gonna believe this." Sam warned. Nobody ever believed the whole 'what's really out there' speech.
"Twelve more minutes." Dean said, barely giving his watch a glimpse. He wasn't showing his fear anymore. He was in the zone. He wasn't just on a plane. Now he was on a hunt, searching to capture his prey.
Amanda looked up startled as the boys and Chris pushed themselves into that little room in the back that held mainly drinks and packets of peanuts. "Oh, hi." Amanda plastered on a preppy smile when she recognized Dean. It made Chris once again want to question how flight attendants were always so...peppy. "Flights not too bumpy for you I hope."
"The bumpiness of the flight isn't the problem." Chris commented. Eleven minutes to go.
"Actually, the flight is kind of what we need to talk to you about." Dean said quickly. They didn't have time to waste. Sam closed the curtains for some kind of privacy. Not much but it would do.
"Um, okay." Amanda crossed her arms confused. It wasn't everyday she got cornered by two large guys and their female friend that clearly had a few more muscle then she could ever dream of having. "What can I help you with?"
"Alright, this is gonna sounds nuts but we just don't have time for the whole the truth is out there speech right now." Dean said. Ten minutes to go.
Sam stepped in and interrupted. "Aright, look, we know you were on flight two four eighty five." Amanda looked quickly shocked at the reminded of her terrible last flight. A flight you almost died on surely wasn't something you wanted to be reminded of on your next flight.
Chris saw something that honestly surprised her and she couldn't help herself. She threw her arms into the air excited. "Finally!" She exclaimed loudly that those in the back rows of the flight could hear her through the thick curtain. "A flight attendant that shows an emotion other then perkiness." Amanda looked confused now more then anything and her brothers glared at her. They so didn't have time for this. "...Sorry." Chris slowly lowered her arms. The perkiness had been a bothering issue for her since she was seven.
Nobody she asked ever seemed to have the answer for the perkiness that had always grated on her nerves.