Angel laid in the front seat of the Impala as the radio loudly played Eye of the Tiger. She was trying to block out any and every obsessive thought that was telling her she was in danger. Safe to say nothing was working because every little noise she heard she was convinced it was something trying to kill her.

Something banged heavily on the roof of the impala making her screech in surprise. She bolted upright but sagged in somewhat-relief when she saw it was only Sam. Turning the radio off she carefully opened the door and climbed out.

Sam studied her worriedly, "How are you doing?"

"How am i doing? Is that even a question?" Angel moved the hair from her face before frantically pulling up her sleeve to reveal the raw scratches marring her skin, "I mean look at this! Like, what the hell?!" When he tried to take her arm to study the scratches she shooed him away, "Don't touch it! It's bad enough already."

Sam gave her an exasperated look as Dean joined them with a pink box in hadm. He handed over the box which consisted of her favorite pastries, chocolate cake donuts with frosting, hoping to help her relax or at least cheer her up. Angel took the box slowly, eyed it warily, and tossed it into the Impala with a disapproving frown after thinking the possibility of choking and dying was too high. Both of her brothers watched the actions worriedly as her normal behavior would have been digging in immediately, much like Dean.

Dean turned from appalled to worried as he turned to Sam, "What did Bobby say?"

"Um, wel…" Sam sent Angel a cautious eye, "You're not gonna like it."

Dread filled her, "What?"

"It's ghost sickness."

Dean cocked his head in confusion, never hearing that before, "Ghost sickness?"

Sam nodded, "Yeah."

Angel's eyes widened in terror, "God, no." She leaned back until her back hit the Impala, "Not ghost sickness…"

Sam's face softened in worry, "Yeah."

She stared at him for a beat, fear building up more and more, "I don't even know what that is."

"Yeah…" Dean shook his head, "Me either."

"Okay." Sam rolled his eyes before explaining, "Some cultures believe that certain spirits can infect the living with a disease. Which is why they stopped displaying bodies in houses and started taking them off to funeral homes."

"Yadda, yadda, yadda." Angel hurried him along, "Get to the nitty gritty, Sam."

"Symptoms are you get anxious-"

"Then scared, then really scared, then your heart gives out." Dean finished in realization before looking down at Angel, "Sound familiar?"

"Fan-friggin-tastic." Angel panicked as her breath started coming quicker, "We haven't even had a ghost job in weeks!"

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

Dean nodded, "Our very own outbreak monkey."

"Right. Get this, Frank was in Maumee over the weekend. Softball tournament. Which is where he must have infected the other two victims."

"Were they gamecocks?"

"Cornjerkers."

"So- so…" Angel paled, "Ghosts infected Frank. He passed it onto the other guys and I got it from his corpse?" At Sam's nod she freaked out even more, "So what?! I've got 48 hours before my heart bursts and I die?!"

Sam grimaced, "More like 24…"

Angel threw her arms up in extra exacerbation, "Fabulous!" She scoffed as they both watched her with worry, "Well, why me? Why not one of you? I mean, you held the guys heart and you got hit with the spleen juice! I didn't even touch the guy!"

"Yeah, um…" Sam cleared his throat as he tried to broach the next part with caution, "Bobby and I actually have a theory about that too. Turns out all three victims shared a certain, uh, personality type. Frank was a bully. The other two victims, one was a vice principal, the other was a bouncer…"

She narrowed her eyes, "Okay?"

"Basically… they were all dicks."

"Excuse me? You're calling me a dick?" She narrowed her eyes in a challenge, "If that theory were true then why the hell didn't Dean get zapped by it?!"

"Hey!" Dean crossed his arms in offense, "Now I'm a dick?"

"More of one than I am!"

"Am not!"

"No, no, no." Sam put his hands up between them, "It's not just that. All three victims used fear as a weapon, and now this disease is just returning the favor."

"Returning the favor?!" Angel centered her panicked glare on him again, "I don't scare people!"

"Angie… all we do is scare people."

"Okay, well- well-" She tried taking a breath to calm herself down but it didn't really work, "Then both of you are dicks too."

Dean smirked, "Apparently, we're not."

"Whatever." She grumbled as she ran a shaky hand through her hair, "How do we stop it?"

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

"You thinkin' Frank's wife?" Dean asked, "Cuz that's where i'm headed with this."

"Who knows why she killed herself, you know?" Sam agreed before looking back at Angel curiously, "Hey, what are you doing waiting out here, anyway?"

"Well, uh, funny thing really…" She forced a sheepish yet embarrassed laugh at their quizzical looks and motioned to the hotel, "Our room is- is on the fourth floor." They each stared at her in confusion so she raised her hand to demonstrate what she meant, "Guys. It's… it's high."

"Yeah… alright." Dean sighed in stress, "I'll move us down to the first." He motioned to Sam in disbelief, "You just… watch her."

Sam forced a smile as he looked down at her. One that was filled with stress and worry. He brought her into a tight side hug before reaching into the impala and retrieving the do-nuts. Angel had to squelch the fear of choking as Sam stressed the importance of eating.

Back in a new hotel room…

As the boys were out, Angel tried to do her part by reading through research. She had a book laid out in front of her as she tried concentrating on it. The clock on the wall seemed to be ticking louder and louder, quickly becoming the only thing that she could concentrate on. In a brief second she looked the book to the clock and back but was taken aback in horror at the disturbing images that were now on the page.

Apparently she could chalk hallucinations as a new symptom.

The words in the book seemed to jump out and speak to her the more she stared at the pages. Not that she was really paying attention to anything she read. Her mind was too busy racing with anxiety and all she could focus on was the incessant ticking the clock was doing.

A tickle in the back of her throat made her cough once or twice before once again turning her attention back to the book. The images of the people vomiting up blood or laying on the ground bloodied struck a nerve in her as it reminded her of Hell. Her heart started pumping a little faster as the memories and new images collided. Once again she looked down to see the words jumping out at her.

You're dying…

Again.

She was rocked with shock before the whole book in front of her started to go blurry. Panicked, she rubbed her eyes and tried focusing again as her fear spiked even more.

You gonna cry?

Baby gonna cry?

Slamming the down and closed, she tried to quell the panic that was building in her. Once again, the deafening sound of the clock on the wall was just making everything worse. In the next second she proceeded to snatch the thing from the wall and smash it on the ground before stomping on it a few more times for good measure. Once she was satisfied she took a breath, put her long hair up in a ponytail and grabbed a beer out of the fridge. With a satisfied breath she plopped herself on the couch and put her feet up. Shortly after, both of her brothers walked through the door, Sam with a bag of groceries, but stopped when they saw the mess on the floor.

The two of them looked at each other before Dean turned a cautious and curious eye to Angel, "Everything alright?"

"Oh, everythings great. I'm having the time of my life." Her green eyes pierced theirs with a glare, "You two find anything?"

"Uh…" Sam frowned from the rubble on the ground back to his sister, "Not really. Jessie O'Brien's body was cremated, so we're pretty sure she's not our ghost."

Angel didn't even notice she was scratching her arm again until Sam swatted her hand away as he took a seat next to her.

"Quit picking at that." He watched her try to take a steady breath but the tension never left her, "How are you feeling?"

"Oh, amazing. It's great having my head on the chop and block." She grumbled, "Apparently I'm never going to forget what that feels like."

"Yeah…"

She coughed a little before taking another drink of her beer, "It's freaking delightful."

Sam shared a look with Dean, "We'll keep looking."

The irritation in her throat came back and she coughed a few times in an attempt to get rid of it. Only no matter how much or how hard she coughed nothing was helping. It almost felt like something was lodged in her throat or making its way up.

Sam looked over from beside her with worry, "You okay?"

He gently slapped her back when she leaned over, still coughing, but trying to expel whatever was in her throat.

Dean got up and walked over to her worriedly, "Angie?"

As the choking and coughing got worse, she bolted from her seat and rushed over to the sink. The boys were each one step behind her, unsure of what to do or how to help her. She coughed and gagged over the sink until a wood chip catapulted out of her throat finally offering her relief. As Angel tried to catch her breath, Dean picked up the woodchip and ran it under water in bewilderment.

"What the hell…"

"We've been completely ignoring the biggest clue we have…" Shock and hope filled Sam's face as he looked from the woodchip to Angel, "You."

Angels eyes widened in panic and dread, "I don't want to be a clue!"

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

"Tell us what?" Dean frowned as he motioned to the woodchip in his hand, "Woodchips?"

"Exactly."

Outside the local lumber mill…

Angel stared at the mill apprehensively, "Nope." She shook her head quickly as she turned back to her brothers, "I'm not going in there."

"Look, we can't leave you alone at the hotel with you chokin' up wood chips." Dean dismissed, "It's better if you stay where we can keep an eye on you, and that means you're coming in with us."

"I'll just stay in the car!" She pleaded with wide eyes, "I'll keep Baby company."

"Ang, we're not leaving you alone out here." Sam dismissed next and sighed when she turned her fearful eyes on him, "You're going in with us and it's gonna be fine."

She groaned as he dragged her over with them to the trunk. Quickly she swiped the bottle of whiskey she had back there and tchugged as her brothers watched, both holding smirks. After gulping down half the bottle she took a deep breath and nodded less than enthusiastically.

"Okay, alright, i'm ready." She frowned as she looked up at the mill again before turning back to her brothers who were going through the weapons, "It's just- It's a little spooky, isn't it?" Dean raised a brow at her as he handed over her AE and she backed away from it, "I'm not carrying that thing!"

"Angel-"

"It could go off! I could lose a toe! Or my freakin' life!" Angel walked back over and took the flashlight before smiling between them, "I'll man the flashlight."

Dean sighed loudly before sending an exacerbated look to Sam, "You do that."

Sam and Dean led the way into the mill with Angel shakily walking between them, attempting to shine the flashlight into the darkness. The EMF reader started going off from Sam's pocket ceasing their walking. He pulled it out of his pocket and by the look on his face, Dean and Angel both knew what was going on.

She looked at him sheepishly, "EMF's not gonna work with me around, is it?"

"Old fashioned way it is." Dean readied his shotgun, "Come on, stay close to us."

Sam stopped them mid walk again, "Wait…"

Angel startled, gasping and jumping back in surprise. Dean gave her a look as Sam sighed at her. He then knelt down to pick up a wedding ring discarded on the ground.

"'To Frank. Love, Jessie.' Frank O'Brien's ring."

Deans brows furrowed, "What the hell was Frank doing here?"

"No idea."

Angel stifled a groan as they walked even deeper into the mill, scurrying to catch up with them when she thought she heard something behind her. They walked into a room full of lockers where loud rustling from the middle locker alerted them they weren't alone. Angel's eyes bulged at the lingering threat as she grabbed onto Dean's arm with a vice grip. As Sam walked closer to investigate, Dean shuffled her behind him. Sam swung the locker open allowing a black cat to jump out just as a screech of terror left Angel's mouth. She latched onto her brother's back as the cat sprinted from the room.

"Oh my god!" Taking a breath she quickly straightened herself, but her heart was still pounding harder than it ever has, "That was so scary!"

"I think you popped my eardrum." Dean grimaced and rubbed his ear before walking out of the room, "C'mon. We've got more rooms to go through."

Angel's eyes went wide again as a whimper left her lips. Sam walked over to her and put a comforting hand on her back.

"Just take a few deep breaths, okay?" He frowned when he felt how much she was shaking, "Ang, you need to relax."

"Easy for you to say." She closely followed him into a new room but stopped at the entrance as Sam crossed to the other side upon seeing something, "What's that?"

He held up an ID card, "Luther Garland."

Dean moved around some papers on one of the tables before pointing to a drawing, "Hey, this is uh…" He unfolds a paper from his jacket, "This is Frank's wife."

Sam raised a brow, "Plot thickens."

"Yeah, but into what?"

"Okay, we found clues. Yay." Angel huffed as she shuffled a little towards the exit, "Can we get the hell out of here now?!"

"Ang." Dean gave her a dismissive irritated look, "Relax."

He tore off the drawing which was stuck under a lever on the table. When moving the picture jostled the lever, the machines around them all turned on. Angel stiffened in even more fear at the events and noise around her. The three of them looked around the room, searching the place for the culprit or a threat. Angel found it first. Her eyes locked on something in the corner, a huge body like figure. A ghost. Her hand that was holding the flashlight shook harder as she pointed the light at the figure.

"It's- It's- He's- He's-" Her panicked stutters earned her brother's attention immediately, "IGhost!"

Sam swung around, seeing the same thing before taking a step forward, "Hey!"

Sam beckoning the ghost was all Angel needed to have her spinning around and sprinting out of the building. She was vaguely aware of Dean calling for her to come back but there was no way in hell she was going back inside. At the sound of a gunshot she flung herself to the ground behind the impala, grabbed her whiskey, and chugged the rest of it as she tried to keep the fear-stricken tears at bay. Soon Sam and Dean each ran outside after her to find her cowering with her head in her knees beside the empty bottle.

Sam sighed, "Guess we got the right place."