October 26th, 2010 - Calumet City, Illinois
"Alright, now, say again?" Bobby asked over speakerphone.
It had been a couple of days since the hunters had gone to Scotland to dig up Crowley's corpse, and Dean and Amy had finally let Bobby know what had been going on with Sam.
Dean glanced at Sam, who was buying hotdogs at a stand, and started walking down the hill with Amy.
"Whatever or whoever pulled Sam out of Hell left his soul down there as well," Amy explained.
"Normally, you guys wouldn't find this out much later in the show, but I thought that maybe…" she trailed off, looking up at Dean. "I should have said something earlier, but I think I was just scared."
Bobby sighed over the phone. "We tested him when he returned, but none of those tests can tell if someone has a soul or not."
"So what do we do?" Dean asked.
"Did you call Cas?" Bobby asked in response.
"We did," Amy confirmed. "He said he would help, but we haven't heard back."
"You got any other ideas, Amy?" Dean asked.
"I don't have any idea other than to find Death." Amy shrugged. "I don't even know where he was originally." She thought for a moment, trying to recall anything that might help. "Okay, wait, I…I think I remember you meeting with some doctor somewhere."
"You remember the name?"
Amy shook her head. "Sorry, no."
Dean nodded. "It's a start, at least."
"Let me dig around," Bobby said. "See if I can find anything. I'll call you when I do."
Amy looked over to see Sam walking to them with a newspaper and food in hand.
"Hey," Dean greeted, waving his phone. "I was just calling Lisa.
Sam nodded. "How is she?" he asked, handing Dean and Amy a hotdog each.
"She, uh, she's good," Dean lied. "Misses me. Told me to come home soon."
Sam started staring at Dean intensely, reading the expression on his face. "You okay?"
"Yeah," Dean said a little too quickly. "I'm fine. How are you?"
"Me?" Sam shrugged. "Great. Here, look. Check this out. Think it might be something." He handed over the newspaper.
Amy leaned in closer. The paper was open to an article about a string of suicides, the first being a woman named Jane Peterson.
"Four people, out of nowhere, all in the last couple of weeks," Sam explained. "What do you say?"
"Yeah." Dean nodded. "Sounds like a plan."
"Let's go."
Dean drove them to Olivia Peterson's house after a quick stop to their motel room. He parked in the street, and they headed up the driveway, stopping at a door in front of a small blue car.
Dean knocked, and a few moments later, the door swung open to reveal a woman who looked at them questionably.
The first thing out of Sam's mouth was a blunt, "We need to ask you some questions about your sister's death," as he flashed his FBI badge.
Amy flashed a stunned glance at Dean.
Olivia narrowed her eyes as a tear started forming. "My sister killed herself."
"Protocol," Sam said. He gestured inside, "Can we?"
Olivia wiped the tear from her face. "I guess." She moved aside. "Come on in."
Amy followed Sam and Dean into the house, looking around at all the decor. Dean nudged her a little, pointing towards the dining room. She nodded, making her way to the room. Dean started exploring the living room.
Olivia picked up a photo of Jane. "I don't understand. Why would federal investigators be interested in a suicide?" she questioned.
"Well, um…" Sam said, "it's a new, more caring administration."
Amy listened to the conversation as she searched around the dining room. She looked under the table, behind curtains and photos, but there was nothing.
"Well, I already told the cops," Olivia continued. "Jane was having a really bad day, so I-I did what any sister would do."
Amy decided there was nothing there and joined Sam and Dean.
Olivia pushed her hair behind her ear. "I... tried to cheer her up, you know? Told her to hang in there."
Sam stared coldly at Olivia. "You know what a tell is?"
Amy closed her eyes as her shoulders dropped slightly.
"Excuse me?" Olivia's voice cracked a tiny bit.
"It's a poker term," Sam explained, "for when you're bluffing. Like what you just did with your hair."
"What are you trying to say?"
"You're lying," Sam accused bluntly.
"What?!" Olivia asked.
Sam stared down at the woman. "Tell us what you did to your sister."
Olivia looked back at Dean and Amy, stuttering out a few breaths. Amy couldn't say anything, couldn't find the words.
"Okay. You're right," Olivia started breaking down. "I was lying. I wanted to tell her I love you. I'm here for you." Her voice began to break. "Oh, but what came out was, you're a burden. Just kill yourself." She sobbed. "Who says that?! I-I-I just couldn't stop!"
Sam nodded. "We'll be in touch."
Amy and Dean exchanged a glance before catching up with him.
"See anything in the house?" Sam asked, closing the front door.
Dean shook his head. "No hex bags, no sulfur, no EMF."
"Ditto here," Amy said as they started walking.
"You?" Dean asked.
"A tuba and an issue of Crochet Today. So, what, already kinda suicidal?" Sam chuckled slightly.
"Right, and then big sis's Taxicab Confession sends her over the edge," Dean added. "Question is, what made big sis open her big, fat mouth in the first place?"
"Yeah, that is the question." Sam got into the Impala without saying another word.
Amy took her place at the driver's side back door, giving Dean a worried glance before getting in.
They had a quick dinner at a diner a few blocks from the motel.
Sam didn't order anything, choosing to research on his laptop instead. "Did any of the vics have anything in common?" he asked.
Amy stopped mid-bite. "You mean other than killing themselves suddenly?"
Sam rolled his eyes. "Obviously."
"I don't think so." Dean pulled the newspaper from his suit pocket. "One of these people was an old, retired guy who hung himself in a library, and this other chick slashed her wrists after finding out her boyfriend was cheating." He leaned in and started reading out loud. "Listen to this: I'm not surprised she went 'slashy-slashy' that night." He set the paper down. "I mean, who says that?"
Sam scoffed, not saying anything in response.
The rest of dinner was quiet. Amy found herself eyeing Sam out of the corner of her eye as he worked on his laptop. She only hoped Bobby would find something soon.
October 27th, 2010
Sam left before Amy woke up the following day. Dean shook her awake while holding his phone to his ear.
"That Bobby?" Amy asked as she stood up.
Dean nodded as he turned his attention to the call. "Hey, do you have anything?" he asked, peeking through the blinds. There was a pause before he said, "Yeah, hold on, let me put you on speaker."
"Bobby, hey," Amy greeted.
"I might have found something," Bobby told them. "There was a doctor your father knew, Dean. A Doctor Robert."
"Awesome." Dean leaned against the door. "Any idea where we can find him?"
"Still looking," Bobby said. "I guess he moved to a new location since your dad passed."
"Well, keep at it." Dean pulled a beer out of the fridge.
"I'll call around to some of your dad's old hunting buddies, maybe Ellen and a few others. See if any of them can shed some light."
"Sounds good, Bobby," Amy said, sitting at the table as Dean sat across from her.
"But Dean?" Bobby asked.
"Yeah?"
"There's the worst-case scenario…" Bobby trailed off.
"You think it's Lucifer?" Dean asked, glancing at Amy.
"I can tell you right now, it's not," Amy told them. "The tall man who crawled out of hell and hid for a year is Sam with no soul."
"Find that doctor quickly," Dean ordered.
Bobby sighed. "Dean."
"You got a day, Bobby," Dean snapped, "and then I'm handling this."
Amy put her head in her hands as Dean sat on the edge of the bed. She watched as he dialed a number, hanging up after only a moment as Sam returned.
"There was another one," Sam announced.
Dean stood quickly. "Yeah? What?"
"Dentist drilled a guy to death." Sam had a smile on his face as he told them.
"You mean the," Dean chuckled nervously, "non-sexy kind of drilling, right?"
"Ew," Amy muttered.
"Fifty bucks says he's mixed up in all the crazy," Sam said, a little too eagerly.
Dean scoffed. "You think?"
"Yeah." Sam was practically jumping for joy. "Let's go talk to him."
Dean looked a little nervous. "Okay. Uh... why don't you go ahead?" he suggested. "I'll catch up. Maybe Ames and I can do a little research."
Sam looked at Dean in disbelief. "You sure?"
Amy stepped up. "If Dean and I can figure out what this thing is, we can figure out how to stop it faster."
"Yeah." Sam nodded. "Yeah, good idea." He turned around, leaving the room again.
Amy let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding as the door closed.
"We're kinda stuck on our leads about Sam until Bobby calls back," Dean told her. "So, for now," he sat at the table and opened his laptop. "Let's see if we can figure out what we're up against."
"I don't get it," Dean said about five minutes later. "None of these vics knew each other. They all died in different ways-"
"Kinda," Amy recalled, "at least two of them killed themselves, in different ways, yes, but the other was just murdered."
"Did the newspaper say anything about the other suicide victim?" Dean asked.
Amy shrugged. "Just that he was trying to discover the truth about his family or something like that."
Dean's phone started to ring. He glanced at it and mouthed, 'It's Sam,' to Amy before answering. "Anything from Marathon Man?" he put the call on speaker.
"Not exactly," Sam said. "He hung himself in his cell before I could get to him."
"Yikes."
Dean and Amy exchanged a knowing glance.
"But he was definitely involved," Sam continued. "Just got the scoop from his assistant."
"Yeah?" Dean asked.
"Yeah," Sam said. "Let's say the stuff that his patient was confessing to, I'd have murdered him, too."
"So three suicides after people told them the truth?" Amy asked. "Sounds like a curse."
"People are just compelled to puke the truth all over 'em?" Dean asked in response.
"Oh, getting hit with the ugly truth, you go postal?" Sam scoffed. "I'd call that a curse. Do me a favor. I'm going to the morgue to check out the body. Why don't you and Amy take the dentist's office and see what you see?"
"Yeah. No problem." The phone beeped as Sam hung up.
"Come on," Dean said, standing up, "maybe we can find something at the dentist."
"Honestly, anything could be better than what we have." Amy followed Dean out the door.
"Cause I feel like we have nothing."
A quick drive to the dentist's office later, and Amy found herself sneaking under police tape in the dentist's office. Half of the room was covered in dried-up blood, with most being on the dental chair. The only light illuminating a small portion of the room was a light from the office in the back.
Dean pushed the door open, and they walked in. It was an all-white room with a large fake set of teeth holding papers inside the desk, a saxophone on the cabinet in the back, and autographed photos of a curly-haired man playing a saxophone on the wall behind it.
"Hey, Ames, check this out."
Amy moved away from the pictures and moved over to the desk.
Dean was holding up a receipt for Harry's House of Horns. "I saw this name when we talked to Olivia Peterson the other day," he explained.
"So they both saw this Harry guy right before everything else?" Amy rubbed the back of her head. "Looks like it's the only thing they have in common. Should we go talk to him?"
Dean nodded and folded the receipt, stuffing it into his pocket as Amy ran after him out the door.
Harry's House of Horns ended up only a few blocks from the office.
"You think this Harry guy is doing all this?" Amy asked as she got out of the Impala.
"Probably not," Dean said. "But it's the only lead we have right now."
A bell above the door rang as Dean opened it, and a man with gray hair and half-moon spectacles jumped up from behind a counter covered with tubas, saxophones, and trombones, with a black binder right in the middle.
"Welcome to Harry's House of Horns! Can I help you folks find anything?"
"Uh, yeah, actually-" Dean pointed at the man, "-you Harry?"
Harry stepped from behind the counter and walked up to the hunters. "I sure am! How can I help?" He stood in front of Dean, revealing that he was barely taller than Amy.
Dean pulled a couple of photos from his jacket. "Do you recognize these folks?" he asked, handing the pictures to Harry.
Harry examined the photos. "Jane and Dr. Conley," he said after a moment. "I heard. Awful. What do I have to do with it?" He handed the photos back to Dean.
"Honestly? You're the only thing they have in common," Dean said.
"Seems they both saw you before, uh…" Amy trailed off. "Well, you know. Did they say anything to you by any chance?"
"Sorry. Not really." Harry walked back behind the counter.
"Right," Dean said, a little disappointed. "Ah, we were just fishing." He tapped the photos on the glass top of the counter and started walking away. "Thanks."
"Hey, by the way, how 'bout my horn?" Harry asked, stopping Dean and Amy in their tracks.
"Horn?" Amy asked.
"Stolen horn?" Harry asked as if to remind them.
"Right." Dean nodded. "Yeah. We're - we're working on it." He turned back around to the door.
"Well, I hope so," Harry muttered. "Thing's one-in-a-billion."
Dean, who had been halfway through reaching for the door handle, turned back again. "What makes it one in a billion again?"
"It's a museum piece." Harry opened the binder to a laminated photo. "And near as anyone can
tell, about a thousand years old."
Dean and Amy approached the counter as Harry held up a photo of the horn. It was a long, gold, curved, almost U-shaped instrument. The description below read, 'Primitive Curved Horn,' 'approximately 1000 years old', 'received 10/20/09', and 'Inventory #31163'.
"Where's it from?" Dean asked.
Harry shrugged. "No one knows."
"When did it get swiped?"
Harry had to think for a moment. "About... two weeks ago. Same day Jane died."
Dean nodded. "Thanks." He led Amy outside, and they got back in the Impala. "I think I know what that horn is."
They returned to the motel room, and Dean immediately started looking for something on his
laptop.
"So, you wanna tell me what you're trying to find?" Amy asked.
"This." Dean spun his computer to show an entry about 'Gabriel's Horn of Truth.' The entry showed a grayscale photo of an angel blowing a horn that looked a lot like the one that had been stolen.
"The horn of truth?" Amy asked.
"Did Gabriel ever say anything to you about it?" Dean asked.
Amy raised an eyebrow. "No. Why would he?"
"Well, I thought that maybe, since you guys were friends…"
"Yeah, we were friends," Amy said. "But that didn't mean he told me everything."
"Yeah, alright. It was worth a shot." Dean drained a glass of whiskey he had left on the nightstand and groaned. "Castiel? Hello?" he said quietly, practically muttering to his screen. "Possible loose nuke down here, angelic weapon. Kinda your department." He closed his laptop and stood up. "You hear that, Cas?" he called to the ceiling.
Amy blinked, and Cas appeared next to the kitchenette sink. "Hello, Dean. Amy," Cas greeted.
"Cas!" Amy said, a little surprised the angel was there.
"Are you kidding me?" Dean asked, gritting his teeth. "I have been on red alert about Sam, and you come for some stupid horn?!"
"You asked me to be here, and I came," Cas said matter-of-factly.
"I've been asking you to be here for days, you dick!" Dean shouted. "About Sam? His soul? Remember that? You told Amy and me you would help!"
Cas looked embarrassed. "I didn't come about Sam because I have nothing to offer about Sam," he admitted.
Dean scoffed. "Well, that's great. It's not like my brother is running around town with no freakin' soul!"
Cas grabbed the bottle of whiskey from the counter and stepped up to Dean.
"How much longer can this go on?" Dean asked.
"I don't know," Cas admitted, refilling Dean's glass.
"What happened to you, Cas?" Dean asked. "You used to be human, or at least like one."
"I'm at war." Cas turned his back on Dean. "Certain... regrettable things are now required of me. I told you two I would help with Sam, and I want to, but right now, it's just not my priority."
"And Gabe's horn of truth?" Amy asked. "It's real?"
Cas turned back around. "You've seen it?"
"Not exactly," Amy said.
"We think it's in town," Dean informed him. "Something's forcing people…" he trailed off as Cas suddenly disappeared from their eyes. "Oh, well, you're welcome!" he yelled out.
Dean took a step forward and took a drink, gagging on it as Cas reappeared.
"It isn't the Horn of Truth," the angel told them.
"What are you talking about?" Dean choked out. "You were gone for like two seconds. Where did you look?"
"Everywhere," Cas said as if it was apparent.
"Right." Dean narrowed his eyes at the angel. "Well, nice seeing you, anyway."
Cas sighed. "Dean."
"What?" Dean snapped.
"About your brother…I do want to help," he admitted. "I'll make inquiries." He disappeared for the final time.
Dean turned back around, leaning against the counter and downing the rest of his drink. "Yeah. Thanks," he muttered, setting the glass down. "Hey Ames, uh…"
"You okay?" Amy asked, already knowing the answer.
"Not really," Dean admitted. "I think I need to clear my head alone, so I'm gonna head out for a bit."
Amy nodded. "Yeah, of course. I don't mind staying here."
"Thanks." Dean grabbed the Impala keys.… I'll call you if I have any updates on the case." With that, he headed out the door, leaving Amy alone in the motel room.
Amy sighed and flopped onto the bed on her stomach. She reached a hand behind her, called the remote into it, and turned on the TV.
After channel surfing for a bit, she turned off the TV and tossed the remote onto the other bed. She hung her head off the bed, staring at the carpet until she got too uncomfortable, before standing and opening the fridge. She found the other half of the hotdog Sam had bought for her the day before, which she had tossed in the fridge as soon as they returned to the room. She zapped it in the microwave for a few seconds and sat on the bed to eat.
She didn't realize just how bored she could be nowadays. A few years ago, she would have been fine like this, but living on the road with Sam and Dean for this long must gotten her used to constantly having them nearby.
After a half-hour of turning the TV on, channel surfing, and turning the TV back off several times, Amy's phone finally rang.
"Dean?" Amy asked, putting her phone to her ear. She heard the engine of the Impala as she spoke.
"Hey, Ames, I'm gonna swing by and pick you up," Dean told her. "I need to ask Sam some things, and I want you there too."
Amy had already stood up by the time Dean had finished talking. "Yeah, alright. I'll wait outside for you."
"Alright."
The call ended, and Amy quickly slipped her shoes back on and hurried out the door. Dean pulled up in the parking lot as she was closing the door, and she ran over to get in the passenger seat.
"Hey-" Her greeting was cut off as she noticed Dean talking on the phone.
"It's not your fault," Dean was saying.
Amy silently got in the car, listening to the phone call as Dean drove.
"Okay, Lis…" Dean trailed off for a moment. "I'm not gonna lie. Okay, me and Sam, we... we've got issues. No doubt. But you and Ben-"
Dean stopped talking, and Amy could see his eyes water a bit as Lisa said something. He pulled his phone away from his ear, flipping it closed as the call ended.
Amy didn't know what to say to all that. She leaned against the window throughout the rest of the silent drive.
They drove to the Carlton Court Apartments a few minutes later and headed inside. They were about halfway up the stairs when they ran into Sam heading down.
"Hey, where you been?" Sam asked. "I found something." He held out a small wooden jewelry box with flowers printed on top and sides.
"It can wait," Dean said. "We got to talk."
"Yeah. What's up?" Sam started heading back downstairs, and Dean and Amy followed.
"There's a few things I want to ask you," Dean began, "and, uh, you're gonna tell me the truth."
Amy turned to Dean as Sam opened the box, wondering what he would ask his brother.
"Uh, yeah, Dean. Of course." They reached the landing, and Sam turned around to face him. "What are you talking about? Whoa. Are you saying you're…" Realization crossed his face.
"I asked for the truth. And you know what? I'm getting it," Dean confirmed.
Sam scoffed.
"So, like I said, I have a few questions for you." Dean took a deep breath. "Why did you really let me believe you were still dead? When you got back."
The question shocked even Amy. Out of all the questions Dean could have asked, she wasn't expecting it to be that.
Sam scoffed again. "I wanted you to have a normal life," he said. "I told you that when you asked me this a few months ago."
Dean nodded. "And, uh, all the back to back. Rarely stopping for a break. What's that all about?"
Sam shrugged. "I wanted to catch up on all the things I missed."
"Sam, you've been Terminator since you got back," Dean snapped, keeping his voice quiet.
"Amy and I both watched you beat that djinn senseless when you got back. I mean, it was long dead, and you just kept going. You should have seen Ames back then. I mean, she was terrified. And frankly, so was I."
Amy leaned against the wall, letting the brothers have their talk as she stared at the floor. She remembered that night, hiding behind Dean like a scared child while Sam beat the already dead djinn as blood pooled around its head.
"Dean…" Sam trailed off momentarily, putting the puppy dog eyes on. "You're right. I went too far back then. I didn't mean to scare you-" he turned to Amy, "-either of you. But you have to understand. I have been with the Campbells for so long, and their hunting methods are slightly different than ours."
Dean nodded. "Okay." He rubbed his eyes a little. "It's just been a really bad day."
"Hey. It's okay." Sam gripped Dean by the shoulder. "I got your back, all right? I always have."
"Thanks, Sammy."
Sam turned around and started back downstairs. Amy turned to see Dean look at her, asking a silent question. She shook her head, and he gave her a nod before following Sam. A moment later, Amy followed both.
They got back into the motel room, and Sam set the box on the counter and opened it up, taking a few items from it. Amy saw a glass jar filled with something she didn't recognize, a small bowl with some seeds, and-
"Is that-" Amy pointed to a small skull between the other items.
Sam sat at the table. "The skull of a cat named Mittens who belonged to the first suicide victim.
A woman named Corey. Became convinced her boyfriend was cheating and decided she would do anything to get the truth."
Dean picked up the skull. "So this was the chick's pet?" he asked, sitting at the table with it.
Sam started typing on his laptop. "Well, she was obsessed."
Dean looked weirded out. "I think you mean crazy."
Sam took the skull from Dean. "All right, so cat skull, uh, grains-of-paradise seed, devil's shoestring." He held up each item, finally putting the cat skull in the bowl and setting everything aside. "Mix 'em well, you got yourself a summoning spell."
"Demon?" Dean asked.
Sam turned his laptop to reveal a webpage about the Goddess of Truth, Veritas.
"The Goddess of Truth?" Amy asked, pulling up a chair.
"Corey was so desperate for the truth about her boyfriend's cheating heart, she went digging around." Sam switched to a new window, showing a mosaic picture of Veritas. "Nothing panned out, so she went looking for a different kind of help."
"A god who could make people tell the truth," Amy realized.
"Opened a door she couldn't close," Dean added.
"Yeah." Sam took his laptop back. "Now anyone in town who asks aloud for the truth invokes Veritas. And she doesn't just give it to you. She slams you with it until you kill yourself, and she gets her tribute."
Dean nodded. "So, all that 'tribute' vanishing from the morgue. What do you think, uh, Soylent Green situation?"
Sam shrugged. "Gods got to eat, too. Which means we got to take her out, or you're on the menu."
Dean nodded. "All right, well, what do we know besides crazy cat lady?"
"Well, dogs are her Achilles heel." Sam started reading the article.
"Naturally."
"And she was a pretty hands-on goddess back in the day," Sam read. "Her thing was coming down from the mountain to speak truth to the masses. She wanted more than tribute. She wanted to be worshiped."
Amy frowned. "So she was an attention seeker."
"And what is the 21st-century version of speaking truth to the masses?" Dean asked.
"A news reporter?" Amy asked. "Nearly everyone watches that."
"Wait, hold on." Dean stood up. "There was a talk show playing at the bar I was in earlier where I realized people would give me the truth. Uh, something talk."
"Frank Talk?" Amy asked. "I came across it earlier while channel surfing. Didn't really watch it, though."
Dean pointed his finger at her excitedly. "Yes, that was it!"
Sam started typing again. "Okay. Frank Talk, hosted by Ashley Frank." He leaned back and scoffed. "Recorded right here in Calumet City."
"Should we pay the station a visit?" Sam asked.
Dean nodded. "Yeah, let's go."
Dean parked the Impala at the front of the parking lot, near a backlit poster advertising Frank Talk with Ashley Frank. He talked to a night guard while Sam and Amy stayed back before motioning for them to follow.
"Bribed the guard over there," Dean told them. "Told me Frank's room is 102."
They reached the door, and Sam picked the lock. The door swung open with no issue.
"Guard must have turned off the security alarm for us," Amy muttered.
They hurried down the hall and let themselves into Ashley Frank's office. Sam grabbed a desktop tower, and they headed out without saying a word.
"So you really think this God is slumming as some farm-league Diane Sawyer?" Sam asked as they approached the parking lot.
"Eh, call it a hunch." Dean paid the guard as Sam put the tower in the Impala trunk.
When they got back to the motel room, Sam plugged the tower into his laptop, setting it on a chair so the hunters could watch the raw footage of Ashley Frank's show.
They sat on the beds, with Sam on one and Dean on the other. Amy lay on her stomach beside Dean, and Sam pulled the chair closer before clicking play.
Footage of a woman with a slicked-back ponytail and glasses appeared on screen. "I'm Ashley-" Ashley cleared her throat and started again. "I'm Ashley Frank, bringing you Frank Talk." She turned to someone off-camera. "Let's do that again."
"Okay, still rolling," a man off-camera informed her.
"I'm Ashley Frank, bringing you Frank Talk…"
Hours passed throughout the night. They watched and rewatched the footage as sunlight started creeping through the window. At some point, she woke up, unaware she had fallen asleep.
"Again," Ashley was saying, "I'm Ashley Frank. Are organic fruits and veggies really worth the cost?"
Dean had moved over to the other bed. He leaned against the headboard and took a bite of a donut he had bought at some point. "She's creepy," he said, pointing a cup of coffee towards the laptop. "I mean, the hair alone. I don't know, man. Maybe there's nothing here."
Sam shrugged. "Maybe." He pushed a key, and the video sped up.
Amy rubbed the sleep from her eyes and stood up, grabbing a donut from the box.
"Morning, Sleepy Beauty," Dean joked.
Amy glared at him and tried to run her fingers through her hair a bit. She grabbed her duffle bag and muttered, "I'm gonna go take a shower," before heading into the bathroom.
A little later, Amy emerged, no longer tired and without a tangled mess of hair across her face. Dean had moved over to the table to eat some pizza.
The footage of Ashley was still playing at increased speed. Amy caught a few things while grabbing a slice of pizza and sat down.
"Do the new rent-to-own prices…" the footage said, "...A recent trend in furniture stores...But think twice before you decide to buy-"
Sam stared intently at the screen, only moving to remove his overshirt.
Ashley giggled a bit. "Before you make that big purchase...Okay."
The footage was silent before Sam clicked a button, and Amy could hear a dog barking in the background.
"We'll ask the councilman ourselves…" Ashley stopped as the dog continued. "Are we still rolling?" she asked someone off-camera.
"Hold on," Sam finally said. He pulled the chair closer and started rewinding the footage, "Check this out."
Amy went back over to the bed, relieved they might have found something after all. Sam replayed the footage, and Ashley turned towards the barking dog.
Dean pointed to the screen. "Zoom in on that."
Sam magnified part of the screen a few times until only Ashley's eyes were on the screen, emitting a light blue glow.
"Hello, Veritas," Amy muttered as Dean and Sam exchanged a glance.
"Well, I guess we found our truth God," Dean said, standing up. "You said dogs are her Achilles heel?"
Sam nodded. "A knife dipped in dog's blood is the only way to kill her."
Amy grimaced at that sentence, not even wanting to wonder where they would get the dog's blood.
Sam stood up, closing this laptop in the progress. "I need to get a few supplies," he announced before heading towards the door.
"Supplies?" Dean repeated. "What supplies?"
Sam sighed. "Just wait here." He opened the door without another word to Dean or Amy and headed out.
Dean scoffed as the door closed and turned to Amy. "I don't know how much longer I can do this," he admitted.
Amy sighed as she stood up. "Me either. If he's immune to a god that forces you to tell the truth…" she trailed off, shaking her head.
Dean pulled a beer from the fridge. "I still haven't heard from Bobby or even Ellen."
Amy nodded silently. "So…what are you gonna do?"
Dean drank his beer, "I don't know yet. But I'll figure something out."
Sometime later, Sam returned, holding a jar of dark red liquid.
Dean drove them to the studio without headlights, taking side roads until they arrived and parked behind a bush. About five or ten minutes after they arrived, they spotted Ashley walking up to a red convertible.
Ashley drove past the Impala, and a few moments later, Dean followed, driving slowly so they wouldn't be seen. Turn after turn until they finally came to a giant, modern-looking house, and Ashley pulled into the driveway.
"Looks pretty normal, right?" Sam asked as Dean parked behind a tree.
Dean scoffed. "I'm sure inside it's chock full of creep."
They watched as Ashley opened the front door, and all the lights inside were turned on, revealing an interior with a curved staircase with hanging lights leading up.
Dean held up three knives. "Ready?"
Sam held up the jar. "Yeah."
"Ugh…" Amy muttered, realizing what was in it.
"And that's...?" Dean pointed to the jar.
"Dog's blood," Sam said casually.
"Do I even want to know where you got that?" Dean asked.
Sam unscrewed the lid. "Probably not."
Dean turned his head in disgust.
Sam dipped the knives in the blood, handing one to Dean and another to Amy.
"All right, let's do this."
The Impala doors creaked as they got out. They slowly and carefully closed the doors to avoid drawing attention. Dean led them through an expensive-looking dining room and living room area. Pink lights hung over the dining table, a lit fire was in the living room, and a tall waterfall was behind one of the couches.
"So where's all the creep?" Sam asked as they moved through the room.
An orange cat in front of the fireplace meowed and ran out of the room. Amy followed Sam and Dean down the stairs where the cat had gone. They went down a long, curved staircase towards the basement. They continued following the cat, heading past a long cat statue and a glass cabinet holding other cat figurines. The door across the stairs was open, so they slipped into the dark room, careful not to let the door move.
They finally stopped at a portrait of a mosaic of Veritas, exactly like the one Sam had shown Dean and Amy. A small skull was on a plate underneath the picture, lit candles surrounding it, and more cat statues were on display.
The cat from before meowed, jumping down from a small alcove with eerie green lighting. Amy watched the cat enter the next room before following Sam and Dean.
The stench of death hit Amy before Dean had even pushed the sliding door open.
Several severed legs lined the floor against the wall, and she saw the cat lapping up blood from a corpse on a gurney. They moved through the room, spotting a bloody decapitated corpse hanging from a hook in the middle of the room and on another gurney, the body of Dr. Conley lying under a sheet.
"You came for dinner."
Amy barely had time to turn before being thrown telekinetically back into the wall across the room. Her vision blurred as she watched the hanging body swing a bit before everything went dark.
The sound of shoes walking across the room woke Amy up. Her head was pounding, but trying to move her hands to rub the back of it proved futile as they were bound by rope.
Veritas, no longer dressed as a reporter but as a goddess, placed the three knives into a drawer and turned the hunters. "Mm. Sit tight," she said, pointing to the mutilated corpse above their head. "You're up next."
Amy wriggled her wrists around, trying to loosen the rope, but it was pointless. She watched as Veritas opened the dentist's mouth and reached in with pinchers, pulling out a piece of his tongue.
"The tongue," Veritas told them as she turned back around, "is the tastiest part. It's where the lies roll off." She took a bite, and Amy felt sickened in her stomach, turning her head away.
"Mmm. Mmm!" Veritas continued gleefully. "I cannot wait to eat yours. I mean, I've seen liars before, but you three? Gold standard." She put down the tongue and walked away.
"Point of professional pride," Dean finally spoke.
"I wouldn't be so cocky if I were you, Dean," Veritas snapped. "You know what happens when you base your life on lies, right? The truth comes along and…" she trailed off. "So, while you've still got your tongue, God knows you've got an earful."
Amy could faintly hear Sam slowly sawing through his rope with a pocket knife. She glanced over to the drawer containing the knives. She needed the right moment to use her powers and get them out. It was too early, and she didn't know what would happen.
The goddess knelt in front of Dean. "I think it's your turn to spill some. How 'bout we play a little truth or truth?" She turned to Sam. "What should we ask Dean first, hmm? Something... personal about you? Hey, Dean, I'm curious. What do you really feel about your brother?"
Dean hesitated, trying desperately to keep his mouth closed. "I want to kill him in his sleep," he admitted. "I don't know what he is right now, but that is not my brother."
Amy hung her head at that response, not because it was directed at her but because she thought most of the same thing. That wasn't Sam sitting next to her, which terrified her every time she had to be in the same room.
"What do you mean?" Veritas asked.
Dean clenched his mouth closed, not wanting to say anymore. It was difficult, though, and Amy noticed. She moved her hand, purposely tapping a nail on the metal pole behind her. Veritas glanced up momentarily at the noise before standing and moving over to her. She stood next to Amy, stroking the already uncomfortable girl's hair.
"Now you…" Veritas knelt down in front of Amy. "The secrets you have on that tongue of yours." She made a squeal of delight. "What about you? What do you think about Sam?"
Amy could feel the truth trying to escape. "I-" she started, feeling her eyes water up. "I'm terrified to be in the same room with him lately." She turned away from Sam, not wanting to see his face.
"Interesting." Veritas stood up, moved to Sam, and knelt back down.
"I told myself I wanted out," Dean said, "that I wanted a family."
"But you were lying," Veritas hissed out.
Dean shook his head. "No. But what I'm good at…" he paused briefly as he turned to Sam and Amy, "is slicing throats. I ain't a father. I'm a killer. And there's no changing that. I know that now."
Veritas smirked. "So, Sam walking back into your life must have been a relief. Hmm?" she asked. She turned back to Sam. "Mallory to your Mickey. And how do you feel about the band getting back together? Hmm, Sam?"
Sam fidgeted around, looking around at Dean and Amy before he spoke. "Look," he started, "what we do... is hard. But...we watch out for each other."
Amy met Dean's eyes. He darted his eyes to the side, and she followed his gaze, landing on a hook lying nearby. She gave a slight nod and turned back to Veritas and Sam.
"And that's what's important," Sam continued. "And that's it. That's the truth."
Veritas shook her head in shock. "No. No, it's not."
Amy kept her eyes trained on Veritas as she quietly moved the hook over to Dean, who hid it behind his back.
"You said yourself," Sam said coldly. "I can't lie."
"How are you doing that?" Veritas started panicking. "That's not possible. You're lying to me!"
"We know," Dean said.
Amy took that as a cue to untie her and Dean's ropes with her powers.
Sam managed to cut through his rope as well and rushed Veritas. The goddess punched him a few times while Dean readied the hook.
Amy circled around until the cabinet with the knives was behind her, watching as Veritas knocked Sam down to the floor and started choking him. She reached out a hand, and one of the bloody knives flew into her hand.
A quick nod at Dean, and he impaled the goddess with the hook from the back. Veritas turned to face him, screeching while her face was replaced with old, wrinkled skin, sunken blue eyes, and fangs.
Amy grabbed Veritas by the shoulder and spun her around, forcing the bloody knife into her stomach. The monstrous face was replaced by the young face of Ashley Frank. She gasped for breath before finally collapsing underneath the mutilated corpse.
Dean looked over the corpse of Veritas and then at Sam. He stared at Sam as he finally stood up. Without a word, he walked over to the cabinet and grabbed one of the other blood-soaked knives.
Amy didn't say a word as she watched Dean walk past her and start brandishing the knife at Sam.
"Dean, it's me," Sam pleaded.
"I know," Dean said quietly. "But you're also not."
Sam looked confused. "What?"
"Ames told me a while ago," Dean explained. "Whatever or whoever pulled you out from Hell that year left your soul behind."
Sam narrowed his eyes at Amy as she approached and stood by Dean.
"I-we were trying to get it back for the last couple of months," Amy explained. "But haven't gotten too far."
Sam scoffed. "So that's why you two have been sneaking around my back." He straightened up. "I've known something was wrong from the start," he admitted.
Dean tightened his grip on the knife and took a step forward. "What?"
"Ever since I came back, I am a-a better hunter than I've ever been!" Sam explained quickly.
"Nothing scares me anymore! 'Cause I can't feel it." His voice started to break. "I think... I need help."
Amy could see Dean lessen his grip on the knife as he slowly placed the knife on top of the shelves before giving her a sorrowful glance. She turned her head to the floor, listening to several punches, each followed by Sam groaning until he fell silent.