Chapter 05 — Southern Comfort

Sam walks over to where Dean and Addison were leaning against the Impala. "I caught wind of a case on the police scanner," Dean says as he and Addison grab drinks out of the tray Sam was holding. "Sounds like our kind of thing."

Sam looks between the two of them. "I wasn't even gone ten minutes."

"Okay. That matters why?"

"I don't know, Dean, how about because you haven't said a word to me since Prentiss Island? And now what? You want me to shut up and ride shotgun and act like nothing happened?"

"You wanna talk about Benny? Fine, let's talk."

"Okay. How about he's a vampire?"

"He's also the reason Ads and I are topside, not roasting on a couple of spits in Purgatory. Anything else?"

"Don't pretend I don't get it. I know, you had to do what you had to do down there."

"I highly doubt you get anything about Purgatory."

"But you're out now. And Benny's still breathing. Why?"

"He's our friend, Sam."

Sam scoffs. "And what about my friend, Amy? She was what? Cause you sure as hell didn't have a problem ganking her."

"Well, I guess people change, don't they? We let that werewolf Kate go, didn't we?"

"She was different. You think Benny's different? He tell you he's not drinking live blood or something?" Sam shakes his head in disbelief. He looks at Addison and she remains silent. "And you both believe him. Wow. Okay. No, you're right. People do change."

"Yeah. We've got a vampire buddy and you turn your phone off for a year."

"Don't turn this on me."

"Look. Benny slips up and some other hunter turns his lights out, so be it."

"But it's not gonna be either of you, right?"

Dean opens the front door of the Impala. He motions for Addison to slide in and she does. "You coming or not?" Sam stands there for a moment, then climbs into the back seat.

"So, guy's old lady comes home and while he's working underneath his ride, puts pedal to the metal, takes half his head off," Dean says as they pull up to the crime scene. They had stopped as they got near the crime scene to change into their FBI suits.

"And that's it," Sam asks, leaning forward.

"Yeah, in a nutshell."

"Wife says she black out," Addison tells him. "Claims that she can't remember anything that happened."

"Well, that sounds like insanity."

"Could be."

"So, how's that make this our kind of thing?"

"Because, Sam, Kevin's in the wind, okay," Dean argues. "You're sulking around like a eunuch in a whorehouse and I can't help but ask myself: when is decapitation not my thing?"

Dean climbs out of the Impala. Sam turns to Addison, but she quickly gets out of the Impala. Sam shakes his head and follows after them. "Whoa, whoa," an officer says, as they walk up to the crime scene. They each hold up their FBI badges. "FBI?"

"Yeah," Sam replies. "Happened to be in the neighborhood."

"First a Texas Ranger, now you guys."

"Texas Ranger," Dean questions.

"Yes, sir. Right over there."

The officer motions to where a man wearing a fringe jacket and cowboy hat was talking to a witness, a young man about their age. "You got to be kidding me," Addison mutters, when the man turns and easily recognizes Garth. They watch as Garth removes his cowboy hat and fans himself with it.

"Hey, Chuck Norris," Dean greets, walking over to their fellow hunter.

Garth turns and grins. "Sam? Dean? Addison?" Sam shushes him as he grows louder. Garth laughs and tightly embraces Addison. She awkwardly hugs him back

"Forgot he was a hugger," Sam comments as Garth hugs.

"All right. Okay. We're still working here," Dean says, gently pushing Garth away.

"You guys have no idea how much I missed you," Garth tells them.

Dean turns to the witness. "Excuse us, would you?"

"Yeah, we'll be right back," Garth tells the witness, then they walk a few feet away.

"A Texas Ranger, Garth? Seriously? We're in Missouri."

"What? Come on. I look like a funeral director in one of those." Addison winkles her nose and looks at her outfit. "Wow. I heard some chatter you three were back in the batter's box but I didn't believe it till now." Music starts playing and they watch as Garth reveals three cell phones inside of his jacket. Addison exchanges a look with Dean. "One sec." Garth pulls out the ringing phone. "Yo, Earl, whatcha you got? A revenant. Okay, uh, you'll need a casket and some silver spikes. Oh, and don't get bit. No, it won't turn you, ha, but it will hurt like hell. Okay, so once you got all that, nail that sucker in, bury him, and throw away the key. Okay. All right, hasta."

"What are you doing," Dean asks after Garth hangs up.

"My job, hombre."

"Your job?"

"Yeah."

"And since when is you giving advice your job?"

"Hold up," Sam says. "Are you the new Bobby?"

"You shut your mouth," Dean snaps, glaring at his younger brother.

Garth nods. "Yes."

"You shut your mouth." Addison places a hand on Dean's arm. "What?"

"Bobby was gone, you three were MIA. It was a weird time. Somebody had to step in and take up the slack. All right. Let's just get back to work and we'll talk about this later, all right?"

Dean turns to Addison and Sam as Garth walks over to the witness. "Did Garth just tell us what to do?"

Addison pats his arm. "Yes, he did."

Dean clenches his jaw as they join Garth. "Uh, Scott Lew," Garth introduces. "These folks here are with the FBI. Mr. Lew's parents were the individuals involved in this unfortunate situation."

"We're sorry for your loss, Mr. Lew," Addison softly tells him.

"Just a few questions, Mr. Lew," Sam states. "By any chance, were your parents having marital problems?"

"No," Scott answers. "No more than anyone else."

"Well, what about your mother's health? Any chance this was a seizure, a stroke, anything that might help explain this?"

"I don't think so. They're checking her out at the hospital right now."

"What about strange behavior," Dean questions.

"Strange? How?"

"Hearing voices, seeing things. Your mother mention anything like that?"

Scott scoffs. "My parents were married for thirty years. High school sweethearts. There's no good explanation for why this happened no matter where you wanna look."

"Okay. Well, thank you, Scott. We'll be in touch," Garth tells him. He walks around to the side of the house and the trio, left with no choice, follow him. Blood was on the ground. Sam pulls out his EMF meter and kneels down next to the blood as the others look around.

"No EMF. No traces of sulfur," Sam says, standing up. He turns to Dean. "Like I thought, a bust."

"Hold on there, Sam," Garth says. "There's a lot of things to factor in here. Uh, it happened last night, so readings could be cold by now."

Addison smiles. "Excellent point."

"And, uh, even if there was any sulfur, Barney Fife and his crew probably contaminated the whole crime scene and any evidence that was here with it."

Dean smirks. "Wow, he's on a roll."

"Yeah, that's one word for it," Sam mutters.

"Uh, guys, I think I found something," Garth says, letting his boot up to reveal a green slimy substance.

"Is that gum or is that ectoplasm," Dean questions. Addison walks over and kneels down to examine the substance.

"Ectoplasm is usually black, right," Sam asks.

Addison lightly touches the substance on the ground. Garth wipes the bottom of his boot and licks his fingers, getting three identical looks of disgust. "Definitely ectoplasm," Garth states. "So, what we thinking? Some kind of ghost, right?" Music starts playing and they watch as Garth pulls out another cell phone. "Uh, Ranger McCrae here."

"One of those things rings Hammer, I'm throwing down," Dean comments as Addison walks back over to them.

"Or Vanilla Ice," Addison adds and Dean nods in agreement.

"Oh, great. Okay. Okay," Garth says, pulling out a pen and writing something on his palm. "Thanks, Doc." He hangs up and shoves the phone inside his jacket. "Asked the coroner to drop me a line in case the autopsy turned up anything…unusual. And guess what. Our dead guy had the word 'Alcott' carved into his chest." Garth holds up his hand to reveal that he had written the world on his palm.

"With what," Sam questions.

"Coroner's best guess? His wife Mary's fingernails."

Addison shoots the woman, Mrs. Lew, a sad smile. Mrs. Lew was handcuffed to a bed, with a sheriff standing outside of her room. "Mrs. Lew, can you tell us what happened," she softly asks.

"I was at the store getting groceries and the next thing I know, my son Scott finds me in the driveway," Mrs. Lew tearfully explains. "And Chester was..."

"Do you remember anything at all about what happened," Sam questions. "Um, Chester dying?"

"Not really. Bits and pieces, I guess."

Garth starts giggling and receives three unamused looks. Addison resists the urge to roll her eyes as he suddenly starts coughing. "Such as," Dean asks.

"I remember his screams, the smell of burnt rubber and...I remember feeling so angry. Just uncontrollable rage, like I wasn't myself. And after it was over, all that anger was...just gone."

"Uh, ma'am, does the word 'Alcott' mean anything to you," Garth questions.

Mrs. Lew tightly clenches a fist and tugs against the handcuff. "What does she have to do with anything?"

Addison raises an eyebrow. "She?"

"My husband, Chester, and I were going steady in high school for a few years already when we had a big fight."

"What about?"

"Something stupid, I'm sure. It was around prom and so he took Sara Alcott as his date instead of me."

"So, this Sara Alcott was a rival for your husband's affections," Garth asks.

"Sara had one night with him, whereas I was with Chester for thirty-seven years," Mrs. Lew tells them, tears starting to stream down her face.

"Of course, right. Sure," Sam says, clearing his throat. "Um, just one more question. Um, is Ms. Alcott still alive?"

"As far as I know, yes."

"Thank you very much, Mrs. Lew," Dean says, then walks out of the room. Sam, Addison, and Garth follow behind him. "Let me get this straight. This poor guy guy goes to prom with some girl over thirty years ago and because of that, he is now a pancake?"

"I mean, if this is a ghost," Sam says. "Maybe it's some sort of possession?"

Addison shakes he head. "What are you talking about? She said that Alcott's alive."

"Well, we're definitely gonna want to talk to her," Garth says.

"Yeah, sounds like a plan," Dean agrees. He looks between the other hunters. "Did we eat yet?"

Addison smiles as the waitress sets the plates of food on the table. She eagerly grabs her plate of chicken tenders and onion rings. "Thanks," Garth tells the waitress. He motions to the plate of food. "Keep 'em coming?"

"All right," the waitress replies, shooting him a smile.

Garth takes a bite of his burger. "So, Dean, Addison, give me the skinny. Where were you this past year?"

"Why don't we save what I did on my summer vacation for another time," Dean replies.

"Aw, come on."

"All right. We were in Purgatory."

Garth looks between Dean and Addison with disbelief. "Like the Purgatory Purgatory?"

"No, the one in Miami."

"Man, that's balls."

Dean glares. "That's not how you say balls."

"So, how'd you guys get out?"

Sam pointedly looks between Dean and Addison. "What's up with all the, uh, hillbilly hankies," Dean asks, motioning to the numerous Confederate flags on the wall. "These people know the Civil War's over, right?"

"That's a touchy subject around these parts. See, Missouri was a border state. So, half the men were Confederate, the other half were Union," Garth explains.

Addison stares at him. "How do you know all of that?"

"I went to college."

Sam raises an eyebrow. "You went to college?"

"Yeah. College and on to dental school."

"What, you were dentist," Dean disbelievingly asks.

"Yeah, just for, like a hot minute," Garth replies. He sees the three disbelieving looks. "Where'd you think I got my first case?"

"Let me guess, Tooth Fairy."

Garth sets his fork down and stares at the table with a sad look. "Yeah. Man, I felt terrible when I ranked that SOB."

Addison blinks. "You killed the Tooth Fairy?"

"Yeah. I mean, not my proudest moment, but it happened," Garth replies. He picks up his fork and digs back into his steak. "Man, this is good."

"Easy there, flyweight," Dean says, stopping Garth from grabbing another beer. Addison looks up from her laptop as she lounged on a motel bed. She had decided to sit out checking out the crime scene of a man that had been murdered by Mrs. Lew's son. Dean and Garth had come back to the motel room to research while Sam was interviewing Sara Alcott. "Last time you drank a beer, I had to pick you up off the floor."

"You're such an idjit," Garth replies, grabbing the beer.

Dean glares. "Idjit's supposed to be used angrily. Okay? Not happy. If you're gonna butcher it, don't say it at all."

"Whoa." Garth holds up his hands. "Okay. None of my business, but…this have anything to do with you and…Sam?"

"No, you had it right. It's none of your business."

"Okay. It just seems that you guys are a little tense around each other."

"We're fine. Can we get back to work."

"Yeah."

"Okay."

"All right. Just, uh, just letting you know that I'm here for you, for anything. I know sometimes Bobby, he would—"

"You're not Bobby," Dean snaps. "Okay? You're never gonna be Bobby, so stop!"

Garth tenses. "Bobby belonged to all of us, Dean, not just you and Sam. Now, I'm just taking what he showed me and trying do something with it. That's all!"

Dean runs a hand over his face. He motions to Bobby's journal sitting on the table. "Why don't you see if you can find something in that bourbon drenched book of his so we can get the hell out of Dixie, all right?"

"Yeah, I'm on it."

Addison clears her throat. "Sussex is a tire shop that went out of business about a year ago," she tells them, standing up. She walks over to the table and sets her laptop. A newspaper article containing a picture with both Scott Lew and the victim, Jeff Bult. "The guy Scott killed, Jeff, was his old business partner. Apparently, he ran the company into the ground."

"So, Scott had a beef with Jeff," Garth replies.

"Sure looks like it."

Dean's phone rings. "Hey, you're on speaker," he says, placing his phone on the table.

"Sara Alcott's clean," Sam says. "If you look past the fit that she and Chester knocked boots on prom night back in the day."

"Okay, so, Mary has a grudge against Sara and Scott has a grudge against Jeff. Besides the fact this is making my head head hurt, how does this add up to a ghost?"

"Guys," Garth exclaims. He had Bobby's journal in front of him. "Bobby has it right here. Green goo equals a spectre."

"Which equals ghost, right?"

"Yeah, kind of. A spectre is an avenging ghost. It, uh, it possesses you and finds out whatever betrayals you're feeling and forces you to act on them."

"Bobby say anything in there about how we hunt these things," Sam asks.

"Uh, the last spectre he encountered rose shortly after someone desecrated a nearby grave."

Addison quickly searches for any recent vandalism. "There a grave was desecrated nearby three days ago. Well, this is super awkward."

The moment he hears the Impala roar, Dean closes Addison's laptop and gently pulls it from her grasp. She raises an eyebrow. They had spent the afternoon checking out the local cemetery with Sam and Garth. But now that they were alone and had nothing occupying them for the time being, Dean was going to take advantage. Laying on the bed, he pulls her against his chest. His lips landing on hers. He can feel her smiling. Addison drapes her leg over his hips, pressing as close as she can get. She pulls back. His lips move down her neck. "I thought you wanted to wait until my back was healed," Addison breathes.

"Close enough," Dean mutters, capturing her lips once more. He pushes her onto her back. His hand pushes her tank top up. She lets out a soft moan when he thrusts against her. He slides down, his lips trailing across her stomach. He undoes her jeans and tugs them off with her panties. His tongue trails over her, teasing.

"Dean," Addison begs. He gently parts her lips and his mouth sucks her clit. His finger slowly pumps in and out of her.

Suddenly, Addison's phone starts buzzing on the nightstand. Her hand flies out, trying to find her phone. "Ignore it," Dean murmurs, not stopping his movements.

"It could be…" Addison trails off, her orgasm consuming her.

Dean smirks. Her phone stops buzzing. He crawls back up and presses his lips against hers. She starts to unbuckle his jeans when her phone starts buzzing once more. He groans and rolls off of her. "Who do we need to kill," he asks, watching as she sits up.

Addison frowns. "Sarah?"

"I changed my mind," Sarah greets. "I'll help you, but you will do the spell."

"I - I can't do that."

"You don't have to do the spell right now. But in the future, you will."

Dean grabs the phone out of her hand. "Look, bitch, I don't know what game you're playing at but Ads isn't doing the fucking spell. You don't want to heal her, fine. But don't try to talk her into doing something that she doesn't want to do." He angrily hangs up and tosses Addison her phone. He sees the look on her face. "No. Okay. You're not doing it."

Addison shakes her head, grabbing her clothes off the floor. "You shouldn't be rude to Sarah."

"She's trying to blackmail you into doing something that you don't want to do, Ads!"

"I should be dead," Addison shouts. "I should've died from blood loss in Purgatory, Dean. But for some reason I didn't. So, don't alienate the only person that can provide answers."

Dean grabs her arm as she moves past him to to the bathroom. "Ads." She shakes off his grasp and walks into the bathroom. He runs a hand over his face and sits down on the bed.

"Place doesn't look disturbed to me," Sam says as he, Dean, Addison, and Garth sneak into the Confederate Tomb of the Unknown Soldier that night. Their flashlights shine around the area. "What's the police report say?"

"Uh, they think it was just some kids messing around. They, uh, they found some beer cans, some graffiti. Oh and the casket was one when they got here, but they closed that back up," Garth explains.

"Yeah, but not before Casper had a chance to make a run for it," Dean adds.

Addison shrugs. "Well if those kids had never touched it, then none of this would be happening."

Garth nods. "Yeah, according to Bobby."

"All right, well, let's get this party started," Dean says. Sam grabs a thin cord off the ground and shoves it in his pocket. "Sammy, you want to give me a hand?" Sam walks over to the cement casket and helps his older brother old the coffin.

Addison peeks inside to see the skeleton in a Confederate uniform, complete with a sword and gun. "Whoa," Garth says, examining the sword. "Check out this hardware. Do you guys know how much this is worth?"

"Why would they open it up and not take anything," Addison questions.

"I don't know," Sam answers. "Maybe the cops showed up and they had to split fast."

"You sure this will work," Garth asks, looking between the three other hunters. "Even on a spectre?"

"It's a ghost, isn't it," Dean counters. "You burn its bones, the ghost disappears." Sam pours a bottle of lighter fluid over the skeleton. "All right."

"All right. All right. All right." Garth turns to them. "Uh, I kind of feel like should say something, all right? Don't you? Just a little..."

Dean exchanges a look with Sam and Addison. "Sure. We won," he says, striking a match and tossing it in the grave. Addison lightly slaps Dean's arm and he shoots her a smug grin.

Addison watches as a body covered in a bloodied sheet is wheeled out of the police station. "Ten bones says Deputy Dog had an axe to grind with his boss," Dean mutters, leaning in close to her.

Addison raises an eyebrow. "What makes you think that?" He points to the tape dispenser sitting on the desk, covered in a dark green goo. "Shit."

"Maybe we torched the wrong redneck."

"Or maybe not," Sam quietly counters. "Maybe an object was removed from the grave, something the specter' s attaching itself to."

"Like Bobby's flask?"

"Um, I don't know, guys. You saw what I saw. Those kids didn't take anything," Garth reminds.

"Or they did."

"And the specter hitched a ride with it," Addison says.

"And whoever has the object gets possessed."

"Okay," Garth says. "So, who's got the object, and, more importantly who do they got a grudge against?"

Less than half an hour later, the hunters find themselves standing in a holding cell with Deputy Wallace. With everything that was going on in the police station, it hadn't been hard to get someone to let them into the holding cell. "All right. We need you to focus, Deputy. Other lives depend on it. Tell me what happened after you shot the sheriff," Sam tells him.

"I was on the ground. I think Karl tackled me and I asked him what happened," Deputy Wallace explains.

Addison frowns. "And?"

"He didn't answer me. He just took my guy and walked away."

"Did he say where he was going," Dean questions.

"I guess...I must have hurt him too. He said he was going to the hospital."

The group walks out of the holding cell. "You two find out what you can about the unknown soldier. Ads and I got the hospital," Dean tells them, then walks away.

Addison quickly catches up to Dean as he reaches the Impala. "You want to tell me what's wrong," she softly asks, climbing into the Impala. He remains silent. She sighs and starts to climb out of the Impala.

Dean runs a hand over his face. "Ads..." He trails off, unsure. She tosses her fake badge in the seat and slams the door shut before walking off. He sits there for a moment, then starts the Impala and heads towards the hospital.

Addison looks up from her latte when someone sits down across from her. She raises an eyebrow seeing Sarah. She looked different than the last time Addison saw her. Blonde hair had been replaced with dark brown hair. "When I said I wanted to talk, I figured you would just call," she says.

"I felt that this should be something we talk about in person," Sarah replies.

Addison frowns. "I only texted you five minutes ago. How'd you get here so fast?"

"You know how angels or demons just appear?" Addison nods. "I can do the same thing."

"So, with immortality and healing, there's also teleportation," Addison says, nodding. "Okay. At least I know what I'm getting myself into."

Sarah grins. "I knew you'd come around."

"Why do you want me to do the spell so badly," Addison questions.

Sarah sighs. Her amber eyes glance out the window to the busy street. "Because I don't want to be alone," she softly confesses. Addison shoots her a questioning look. "Ever since my grandson died, I told myself that I wouldn't get close to anyone. Everyone grows older and eventually dies, but I don't. I spent almost two thousand years moving around. Never the same place for more than a few years. And life for me was fine. Until Michael showed up. Then everything changed. I found your dad and for the first time in a long time, I grew close to someone. I remembered what it was like to have a family. A real family. People that actually knew the truth about me. And I don't want to lose that."

Addison leans back in her seat. "I'll do the spell, but only when I'm ready. Okay?"

"Deal. Besides, it gives me more than enough time to find the actual spell and what's needed for it."

"You don't know the spell?"

Sarah shrugs. "I don't remember. It's been two thousand years. I know who does know it. Just have to track down the winged son of a bitch."

"You think that an angel will actually tell you the spell?"

"Oh, he'll tell. He's the one who wrote it on a tablet."

Addison frowns. "Why not just find the tablet?"

"You think Kevin Tran would translate it for us," Sarah counters. Addison shakes her head. Kevin had disappeared with his mother and hadn't responded to any of her text messages. "That's what I thought. So, I'll work on getting the spell in a language one of us can read." Sarah watches as Addison turns her gaze to the street. She places a hand on her arm. She wanted to talk about what had happened to both of them during the last year. "Would like a lift back to your motel?"

Addison shoots her a confused look. "I thought you just popped over."

"I did. Doesn't mean I can't take a passenger."

"What the fuck's going on," Sam asks when Addison walks up to the motel room. Sarah had dropped her off behind the motel. Sam exchanges a look with Garth as they make their way to the door. "Neither of you were at the hospital. And you haven't been picking up."

"I don't know," Addison answers, shrugging. "We had an argument. I walked back."

Sam frowns. He pulls out his cell and dials Dean's number once more. He opens the door and they walk into the motel room to find Dean sitting on the bed. Dean's phone was sitting on the bed next to him, buzzing. "Dean? What the fuck, man? We went to the hospital. You're not answering your phone."

Dean stands up. He picks up his gun off the bed and aims it at Sam. "You should have looked for us when we were in Purgatory."

The hunters notice the black goo running down the side of Dean's face. "Come on, Dean. I know it's not you in there pulling the strings."

"Shut up," Dean snaps. Garth moves to grab his gun. "Don't!" Garth holds up his hands. Dean turns back to Sam. "You never even wanted this life. Always blamed me for pulling you back into it."

"That's not true."

"Really? Cause everything you've ever done since you climbed into my ride has been to deceive me."

"What do you want me to say? That I've made mistakes? I've made mistakes, Dean."

"That's not Dean, Sam," Garth reminds.

"Shut up," Dean shouts. "Mistakes? Well, let's go through some of Sammy's greatest hits. Drinking demon blood, check. Being in cahoots with Ruby. Not telling me that you lost your soul. Or how about running around with Samuel for a whole year, letting me that you were dead while you're doing all kinds of crazy. Or fucking my girlfriend for that entire year. Those aren't mistakes, Sam. Those are choices!"

"All right. You said it," Sam replies, moving closer to his older brother. "We've both played a little fast and loose."

"Yeah, I might have life, but I never once betrayed you. I never once left you to die. And for what, a girl? You left me to die for a girl?"

Sam puts a hand on the gun and punches Dean. He stumbles back. Sam shoves Dean through a glass pane and punches him a couple more times. Dean punches Sam, then head butts him and throws him across the room. Sam pushes himself up and leans against the couch. Garth places himself between the two fighting Winchesters. "Whoa, whoa, whoa," he shouts, holding his hands out.

"Garth, don't," Sam tells him.

"No, he won't kill me. His beef isn't with me. You're not gonna shoot me, are you, Dean?"

Dean glares, aiming his gun at Garth. "Move."

"Come on, Dean. You do not want to kill your brother. You - you've been protecting him your whole life. Don't stop now."

"He left us to rot in Purgatory!"

"All right. All right. Maybe he did. I don't know. I wasn't there. But I'm sure he had his reasons."

"Just like you guys had your reasons for Benny," Sam argues.

"Who," Garth asks, looking between the trio.

"Benny has been more of a brother to me this past yeah than you've ever been," Dean snaps. "That's right. Cas let me down. You let me down. The only people that haven't let me down are Benny and Ads."

"I know you're angry. But man, you got to fight this thing," Garth tells him. "Do not do this! Just let it go. Come on, Dean."

"Goodbye, Sam."

Dean moves to rush past Garth. The smaller hunter punches him and Dean stumbles. An object falls from Dean's hand. "Ow! God," Garth says, shaking his hand out. He moves to pick up the object, an old penny.

"Garth, don't," Sam shouts.

"It's cool," Garth reassures. "It's all good. I'm cool." Dean touches the goo on his ear. Addison shakes her head and walks away from the motel room.

Dean watches as Addison sets her duffle in the trunk of the Impala. She hadn't said much to anyone after everything had happened. Garth had just left and was going to destroy the penny. Addison moves to walk past him, but Dean grabs her arm. "I'm sorry," he quietly says. She shoots a disbelieving look. "Yeah, I know." He rubs the back of his neck. "Look, I'll try to play nice with Sarah."

Addison leans up and softly kisses him. "Thank you."

Dean pulls her against his chest. "Don't ever take off like that again."

"I'll try not to."

Sam walks out of the motel room and tosses his duffle in the trunk. He slams it shut. "For the record, the girl, her name's Amelia Richardson. She and I had a place together in Kermit, Texas."

"Look, man, I don't even remember what I said, but uh—" Dean begins.

"But what," Sam snaps. "But you didn't mean it? Oh, please. You and I both know you didn't need that penny to say those things."

"Come on, Sam."

"Own up to your shit, Dean. I told you guys from the jump where I was coming from, why I didn't look for you. But you guys? You had secrets. You had Benny. And Dean, you got on your high and mighty and you've been kicking me ever since you guys got back. But that's over. So move on or I will."

Dean nods. "Okay. I hear you."

"Good." Sam walks over to the passenger door. He pauses. "You know what? Hear this too. I just might be that hunter that runs into Benny one day and ices him."

Addison opens her mouth, but Dean squeezes her shoulders. "I guess we'll cross that bridge when we come to it, won't we?"

"Yeah. Yeah. You keep saying that."