…And now we're on the chapter with drug use. I really am keeping this thing family-friendly, aren't I?

Friday, October 17th, 2008

Rock Ridge, Colorado

Turns out, there was a magic pill that could solve all their problems – or at least postpone them for a few hours. It was called Xanax. Most people used it as a sleep aid, but it also could be used to manage anxiety. Personally, Skye was hoping it would be able to do both but would settle for just one or the other.

She held out the small, rectangular pill to Dean and said, "take this." He didn't move to take it, instead staring at the object in her hand suspiciously.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Xanax," Skye supplied. His eyes shot back up to her face, expression alarmed.

"Where the hell did you get that?" he asked. "A dealer?"

"No." She had no idea where she would have even found a dealer, and moreover she was didn't want to risk being sold the wrong thing. Instead, she went to the town's drug store, used her powers to pick the locks, and took a pill from a bottle directly behind the counter. She made sure to only take one. This wasn't like the Witness situation, where she didn't know how much would be needed for the spell to work. One pill should be enough to knock Dean out for a few hours, and she wasn't going to take more than what was necessary.

Of course, she didn't explain that to Dean and Sam. It would just be a waste of breath when what they really needed was for Dean to settle down and relax. When he continued to stare at the pill, Skye sighed.

"It's not poison," she said. "I'd take it myself to prove it to you, but I only got the one pill. That means this is our only shot. You can take the pill and relax, or you can spend the next few hours panicking about your imminent demise. It's up to you."

Hesitantly, Dean took the pill from her between his two fingers and thumb. He didn't take it, though. Instead, he continued to stare.

"What if I choke on it?" he asked.

"Then I'll give you the Heimlich." Disappointment became visible through the terror. "If you want mouth-to-mouth, you're going to have to ask Sam."

Sam made a noise that was something between an indignant sputter and a groan of absolute disgust. Dean, meanwhile, was horrified enough to forget about the idea of choking and popped the pill into his mouth. Before he could change his mind, Sam thrust the glass of water into his face. With one big, fast gulp he swallowed the pill. After that, all they could do was wait.

The next fifteen minutes were spent getting ready for bed. Dean changed into sweatpants and an old, faded band T-shirt. Sam and Skye kept a careful eye on him, watching as he got under the covers and began to relax. When his breathing became shallower and even, Sam carefully and quietly approached him, pressing two fingers to his to his jugular vein. A moment later, he let out a breath of relief.

"I can't believe that actually worked," he said.

"How's his heartbeat?" Skye didn't need to know. She just asked for appearances sake.

"Slower, steady," Sam said. "I think he might be able to get some rest."

"That'd be good," Skye said. "I don't think this is a cure-all though."

"It definitely isn't," Sam agreed. "The effects are sure to wear off eventually, and it's not like Dean can live the rest of his life popping Xannys."

Skye nodded and lowered her head. She wished she had something more to offer, but right then the Xanax idea was the best she could do. She was tapped out and needed some sleep, desperately. She started moving towards the couch, where she had taken up residence the past few days, until Sam stopped her.

"Hey, you don't have to sleep on the couch," he said. "You can take the other bed." Skye turned to look back at him, surprised.

"That's okay," she said. "You don't have to. I'm fine on the couch."

"I'm going to stay up a little bit longer and research this ghost sickness," Sam said. "I'll be fine on the couch. Just take the opportunity to get some real, restful sleep."

Skye sighed. Honestly, she was too tired to turn down the offer. Sleeping on a real bed after spending the past few nights either sleeping on couches or across the Impala's backseat sounded nice. So, in acceptance of Sam's offer, she turned around and moved towards the second, empty mattress.

"Just don't stay up too late with all this research stuff," she said. "Remember, you have to be sharp, too."

Sam made a half-hearted noise of agreement. Skye knew that he wouldn't listen to her but was too tired to consider it her problem.

She pulled back the covers and got under the sheets. She didn't bother with changing clothes because she felt that was just a waste of time that could be spent sleeping. Despite that, she did take a moment to slip off her bra once she was sure she was sufficiently covered. As far as she was concerned, making herself comfortable in that sense wasn't a waste of time.

Lifting her head up momentarily, Skye looked out into the living room to see Sam sitting at the small dining table. He had his laptop open and a determined look on his face. Wishing him the best, Skye allowed her head to fall back. The moment it hit the pillow; she was asleep.

"Skye."

"Skye."

"Skye."

Saturday, October 18th, 2008

"Skye?"

She jolted awake. It took her a moment to recognize that it was Sam's hand on her shoulder. For a moment, she looked at him with slightly frightened eyes. Then, she turned her gaze onto the digital alarm clock resting on the table between the two beds.

5:30 AM

She looked over at the other bed. To her surprise, Dean was soundly asleep. No traces of fear marred his expression, nor did he show any signs of waking. Skye raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"He's still asleep?" she asked, turning to Sam.

"Yeah," he said. "Xanax must have worked better than we thought. Maybe we'll luck out and he'll sleep through this whole thing until after Bobby and I have it taken care of."

Just saying that was enough to jinx it for Skye, but she didn't voice as much to Sam. If he could hold out hope that all of this would go swimmingly, then more power to him.

"You need me to get up?" she asked Sam instead. He nodded.

"I'm going to meet Bobby at the lumber mill," he said. "He says he knows what we're dealing with, and I think I might have an idea on how to stop it."

"Okay," Skye said, pushing the covers off her body and sitting up. "Give me a minute. I'll get changed."

"Actually," Sam said. "I was going to have you hang back here with Dean." Skye frowned.

"But I can help with the ghost," she said.

"I know you can," Sam said. "But I've already got Bobby for backup, and I'd rather not leave Dean here alone. Not when we don't know this will work. I'm going to need you to keep an eye on him for any changes." Skye's eyebrows knitted together.

"What kind of changes?" Sam shrugged.

"Well, if we're successful, I'd imagine that road rash would go away, along with the constant terror. If not…"

"His heart will stop. Got it." Sam solemnly nodded. He was relieved he didn't have to be the one to say it, but not liking the information all the same. Skye really felt bad for him.

"Anyway, just keep an eye on him," Sam said. "As long as he stays asleep, all you're gonna have to do is check his pulse every few minutes, but if he wakes up try to keep him calm."

Again, Skye nodded in understanding. Sam took a deep breath, then turned to grab the keys off the dresser.

"If anything changes, call me," he said over his shoulder.

"I will," Skye agreed. "Good luck."

For Dean's sake, she hoped to say that she didn't jinx it either.

Thanks to her powers, checking Dean's pulse every few minutes wasn't necessary. Skye could feel the vibrations of his heart beating and his lungs expanding every time he took a breath. Usually, she could tune such things out. (The fact that she could feel those vibrations in the first place scared her. She'd caught on fast that if she could feel a vibration, that meant she could control it and the thought of controlling someone's heart and lungs…) However, in this situation it was useful. It meant she could tell whether Dean was alive or dead without being near him. That freed her up a lot.

After Sam left, she took the opportunity to shower quickly, only really giving herself enough time to wash her hair. She got out as soon as she was done and stepped out into the living area to check on Dean. He was still asleep, and she could still sense his heartbeat. Both of those things were good and enough to reassure Skye to go back into the bathroom to change and use the hair dryer.

She was out again in less than ten minutes, now clad in a pair of jeans and a green crew neck sweatshirt. As she tied her hair up, she approached Dean to check on him again. Still asleep, and still with a steady heartbeat. Nodding, she turned her attention to breakfast.

The Winchesters tended to travel light, but nonetheless always kept a bag of goodies and treats on hand. Most of it was candy and junk food Dean liked (Peanut M&Ms, Three Musketeers, Ring-Dings, etc.) Still, there were a few healthier options a la Sam. Most notably granola bars, which while not entirely filling, constituted a more adequate breakfast than anything else. Skye took two from the bag and sat down on the couch, making a mental note to replace what she took later.

Skye managed to get a few moments of peace in before things started to change around her again. She was ripping open the second granola bar package when she noticed that Dean's heart rate sped up. Slowly, he started taking deeper and deeper breaths, and soon she could hear the rustling of sheets as he moved. It was official; Dean was awake.

Unconsciously, Skye sat up straighter. She listened as Dean sluggishly got up out of bed. It seemed the Xanax he had taken was still having some effect. His heart rate was faster, but still not at the pace it'd been at the peak of his panic the night before. Skye didn't know if this was a good sign or not. The very least she hoped was that it would buy Sam and Bobby a little more time.

Dean stepped through the archway separating the two rooms. When Skye looked up, she saw that his eyes were wide and he was carefully scanning the area for any threats, but his expression hadn't yet turned frantic. He didn't say anything to her and crossed the living area to the bathroom on the other side.

Once in the bathroom, Dean shut the door behind him. Shortly after, Skye heard water running and the sounds of a person moving around in there, which reassured her that he was okay. Seeing as Dean was awake, Skye decided that it was pointless to sit in silence and turn on the TV. She made sure to turn the volume down as she did so, not wanting it to be too loud and startle Dean.

The first few channels were nothing but news. Skye switched away from that. She was worried that they would air footage of a brutal crime scene or clips from the ongoing wars in Iraq and Afghanistan and that would only serve to upset Dean. She flipped through a few channels, before landing on a kid's network that was airing re-runs of The Gumby Show. All things considered; it seemed like a safe choice. After all, they wouldn't put anything truly distressing in a children's show, right?

Skye finished her breakfast and threw out the wrappers. By the time she sat back down, Dean had come out of the bathroom and joined her. He looked clean for the most part, and he'd changed into his normal uniform of jeans, a black t-shirt, and a flannel. It would be enough to reassure her if he didn't keep scratching at the road rash on his arms. It looked much worse than the night before and was proof that Xanax hadn't been the cure for all their problems.

While she had been out at the drug store the night before, she had taken the opportunity to acquire something else that could serve to be of use to them – a pair of oven mitts. She knew when a kid had chicken pox on TV, the parents would put oven mitts on the kid's hands to keep them from scratching and hurting themselves. She figured the same principle would apply to Dean's road rash. She tossed them over to Dean and told him to put them on. When he refused, she told him it wasn't a choice. He could either put them on himself, or she would forcibly tape them to his hands. With a few aggrieved grumbles, Dean put them on. When Skye looked over again a few minutes later, she was relieved to see he was still wearing them, though he still hadn't refrained from scratching.

Dean asked her where Sam was. Skye explained that he and Bobby were at the lumber mill trying to put a stop to their ghost problem. He asked for details, but since Sam had been so scant with her, she couldn't offer anything. She then asked if he wanted anything to eat, but Dean declined, citing the choaking issue he had brought up the previous night. Skye's stomach churned with worry, but she didn't comment on it. Instead, the conversation lapsed into silence.

They continued to watch the Gumby Show, but Skye had very limited interest. Mostly she went inside her own head, wondering how exactly Bobby and Sam were going to get rid of the ghost, and when exactly it would happen. The only thing that brought her out of her reverie was the occasional moment when the TV would cut to static. It would only last a few seconds before it would cut right back to Gumby, but it still caught her attention. During these disruptions, she thought she heard someone say her name but quickly dismissed it as her mind playing tricks on her.

In each instance, Skye looked over at Dean to make sure that it didn't startle him, but each time he remained as calm as he possibly could with the circumstances.

That was, until she heard him breathe sharply. For a second, Skye was confused. The TV hadn't cut to static again, so what could be wrong? When she asked, Dean pointed at the TV and said, "they took Pokey!"

Skye looked over at the screen and sure enough, two block-headed clay figures were dragging the poor little pony by a rope from their car. She blinked a couple of times before it occurred to her that she should be reassuring.

"It's okay," she said. "I'm sure Gumby will get him back."

"But that's his best friend!"

"Which is why I'm sure he'll get him back," she said. "Friends don't leave friends behind."

Dean went coldly silent, his expression unreadable. It was like he was contemplating something serious in his mind, but what she couldn't even begin to guess at. She looked at the TV again, then back to Dean.

"I'm sorry," she said. "Am I missing something here?"

For a long moment, Dean remained silent. Skye was starting to think that he didn't hear her when he suddenly shook his head.

"No," he said. "I'm fine. It's nothing."

"Skye."

A shiver went down her spine. She picked up the TV remote and pressed the power button, causing the screen to go dark.

"I think that's enough TV for now." Dean didn't object to that. Just as Skye was setting the remote down, she heard Dean's cellphone ring. Knowing it was going to be Sam wanting a status update, she grabbed the phone and answered it before Dean could.

"Hello?" Skye said.

"Hey," Sam's voice came over the other end of the line. "How's Dean?"

"Still alive and bitching," Skye said. "Though he's reached the point where he can't even handle Gumby anymore."

"Should I ask?"

"Probably not," she said. "Has Bobby shown up yet?"

"Yep," Sam said. "And we've got a game plan."

"Ooh, do tell!"

Sam went on to explain that Bobby was certain the ghost causing the sickness was a Buru Buru – a spirit that was created and driven by fear. This was good news for them because there was a way to vanquish the spirit other than burning the remains. That was, by scaring the spirit back.

Their plan was simple. They'd lure Luther out of hiding by destroying his drawings of Jessie O'Brian, then chain him to the back of the Impala and road haul him until he dissipated – like his own terrifying death at the hands of Frank nearly twenty years prior. Skye had doubts about this plan, but she didn't express them. After all, Dean was sitting just a few feet away. The last thing he needed to hear was that this might not work. So, Skye kept her mouth shut.

"Anything you need me to do here?" she asked.

"Just tell Dean to sit tight and ride out the trip," Sam said.

"Okay," she said. "Good luck."

After that, Sam hung up the phone. Skye put it back on the table and turned to Dean.

"Alright," she said. "Sam and Bobby have a plan to get rid of this thing by scaring it back to death. All you've got to do is sit tight and ride out the trip."

"Is that what Sam really said?" Dean asked.

"Verbatim."

Dean didn't look quite convinced. He looked away and went back to scratch his arm with his oven-mitted hand.

"Skye."

Skye tried her best not to flinch and enthusiastically clapped her hands together.

"You know what, let's do something else." She looked around the room and spotted a radio on the kitchen counter. "Music helped you before, right? Let's see if it'll work now."

She crossed the room and flipped a switch to turn the device on. The radio was an older model, using a manual tuner instead of a digital one. Skye turned the knob until the music started coming through clearly. The song in question was Tiffany's "I Think We're Alone Now." For a moment she considered leaving this station to play, but one looking at Dean's disgusted face convinced her that wasn't a good idea. Thus, she began looking for another one.

The next station she landed on appeared to be a classic rock station. "Break On Through (To the Other Side)" by the Doors was playing. Dean seemed happy enough with that, so Skye let it be. She had walked almost all the way back to the couch when the radio gave a loud, static hiss. Assuming it to be normal interference, Skye just rolled her eyes and waited for it to clear up. However, when it did, the song playing wasn't the Doors'. Instead, it was once again "I Think We're Alone Now" by Tiffany.

"Skye."

Skye frowned.

"I didn't touch that." The declaration only served to startle Dean, so Skye quickly held out a hand to placate him. "Don't worry, I'll fix it."

She went back to the radio and turned the knob away from the station, then back to it. She was hoping that doing so would bring back the Doors, but when she did so she still got "I Think We're Alone Now." Confused, Skye tried dialing the radio to another station. This time she got "DARE" by Gorillaz – a song that she personally would much prefer listening to. However, only a few bars of the song played before the radio hit static again and changed back to "I Think We're Alone Now." Skye's confusion turned to frustration.

"Is there a pirate station nearby?" She picked up the radio and inspected the whole thing. It was just a small, metal box affixed with a large antenna and no ports for an AUX connection, nor a cassette or CD player. Such a simple device shouldn't have been having interference issues, so what gives?

"Skye."

BANG!

The radio fell out of Skye's hands and crashed onto the counter. "I Think We're Alone Now" continued to blare from the single speaker as she turned around. Someone was pounding on the door to their room, jiggling the knob, and basically doing everything they could to break it down.

Panicked, Skye's eyes went right to Dean. She found him crouching behind the couch, cowering in fear. Not knowing what was going through his mind, Skye realized that she was on her own. Her first thought was to grab a knife, but there wasn't one readily available. Besides, she was already out of time. With a smashing sound loud enough to send her ears roaring, the person on the other side successfully broke down the door.

Skye jumped back in surprise. Her back hit the cabinet, and she almost fell. She managed to catch herself by reaching back for the countertop before she hit the ground. That didn't take her attention away from what was happening in front of her, though. With wide eyes, she watched as a man in a very familiar uniform walked into the room.

"Sherriff Britton?"

It was indeed him. His hair was unkept, his shirt sleeves were covered in blood, and he had a crazed look in his eyes, but it was him. Skye could feel his heart beating and it was doing so at a pace ten times that of Dean's. This was all the information she needed to come to her conclusion; the Sherriff was infected, too.

"Skye."

"What are you doing?" Skye looked to see what Dean was focused on, and realized he was staring at the gun the Sherriff held in his hand. She swallowed hard, and looked back up at the man's face, looking for any indication that he was about to lift the weapon and fire.

"Why are you looking into Luther Garland's death?" Skye and Dean glanced at each other momentarily, some understanding passing between them, before she lifted her hand and held it out in a placating gesture to the officer.

"Sir," she said, careful to be polite. The last thing she wanted was to set off the hallucinating guy with the gun. "I have to tell you something. You are sick. You just need to relax, like him." She pointed at Dean. "You guys have the same thing and all you've got to do to fight it is just relax."

At the same moment, Dean made a big show of taking a deep breath in and out – hoping to placate the man by example. Slowly, the Sherriff took a few steps forward towards Dean. He stood there, watching him breathe in and out for a good thirty seconds, before he suddenly pulled back his right hand and decked Dean across the face.

As Dean hit the ground, Skye ran across the room, putting herself between Dean and Britton. Her hand stayed raised, although she no longer meant it in a placating gesture. Now, she held her hand ready to attack. She didn't want to use her powers – and she hoped beyond hope the Sherriff wouldn't make her – but she was prepared to do it, nonetheless.

"Frank O'Brian was my friend," Britton said through a clenched jaw. "So, he made a mistake. So, I didn't bust him. So what? Are you gonna bring me down over that!?" Britton held up the gun and Skye's heart skipped a beat. "No, Sir."

"Skye."

Skye didn't know the moment when she made the decision. All she knew was that the world was shaking, and a sharp sound was ringing in her ears. She felt the vibrational wave travel from her heart, across the right side of her body, down her arm, and out the tips of her fingers. The wave ripped through the air, creating an unmistakable sound that resonated through the room. A few seconds later, a loud SNAP was heard. Sherriff Britton's hand suddenly went limp, and the gun went clattering to the ground.

"Skye."

The room fell deathly silent. Not even the sounds of their own breathing could be heard. The pain must have caught up to Britton, because he brought his arm up to cradle his wrist to his chest.

"What the fuck!?" He started to back away from her.

"I… I'm sorry!" Skye's hand trembled. It was almost shaking as hard as the rest of the room. "I just… The gun…"

"How the fuck did you do that!?" The Sherriff screamed. "You didn't even touch me, and you broke my wrist!"

"Sir, sir, please!" Skye's voice cracked a little bit. She took a step forward towards Britton, not realizing she was still holding up her hand. "I can explain everything, you just need to relax!"

Her approach only caused Britton to cower harder. He kept going backwards, not even stopping when he collided with the couch. Falling back-first over the piece of furniture, the Sherriff slid right over top of it, his head and upper torso colliding with the coffee table and smashing it.

Skye ran around the couch and knelt at Britton's side. He didn't do anything to fight her as she brought two fingers to the pulse point on his neck. For a few seconds, she felt a wild, erratic beat, then it suddenly stopped. The Sherriff went still, and the light went out from his eyes. He was dead.

Heart attack! Skye brought her hands up to her head, eyes wide. Although the result wasn't unexpected, it still served to horrify her. Tears started spilling down her cheeks. Her chest felt tight, and it suddenly became very hard to breathe. The world was shaking, lights were flickering… Everything was coming apart at the seams.

"Skye."

She swallowed again. She had to breathe. She needed to relax. She couldn't fall apart, not with Dean in the state he was in.

Dean!

Skye shot to her feet. The whole time she hadn't been paying attention to him. Did he see what happened? Was he freaking out? Did she need to explain anything?

Most importantly, was he going to hurt her?

She turned around and found him sitting on one of the beds. He'd taken off the oven mitts and was scratching furiously at his arms. In a few moments, he managed to rip them into a sickening, bloody mess. Skye had to resist the urge to gag.

"Dean?" He looked up at her, pupils dilated with fear.

"Stay back!"

Skye almost lifted her hand again, but realized that given what he'd just seen, Dean wouldn't take that as friendly or placating.

"Look, I know what you just saw was confusing," Skye said. "I don't know how to explain it, either, but you need to believe me when I say that I never, ever want to hurt anyone."

"No!" Dean shouted. "I'm not going back with you! I'm never going back!"

Confusion took the place of fear. Carefully, Skye continued with her approach.

"What are you talking about?"

"No!" Dean just shouted again. "No! Just stay away!"

Skye was standing within feet of him.

"Dean, you need to tell me what's going on. What are you seeing right now?"

"Stay away from me, Lilith!"

A sharp pain shot through Skye's ribcage. She flew, landing on her back hard. If she felt she couldn't breathe before, now it was ten times worse. When Dean's foot connected to her torso, she'd heard a snap a lot like the one that had come from Britton's wrist. Carefully, she set a hand down on her left side. It was pain at a level she hadn't felt before. Wincing, Skye's head dropped to the floor.

"Skye."

Skye opened her eyes just as a cold feeling began to consume her stomach. Before, she had figured that she had lost control of her powers and that was why the room was shaking. Now, she could clearly tell that the vibrations weren't coming from her. She could feel it when they left her body. No, they had to be coming from an outside source.

The room shaking, the lights flashing, the radio letting out sharp bursts of static between bars of "I Think We're Alone Now." If she was crazy, she'd think that this was the exact same situation as when Castiel tried to say "hello" to Dean in the gas station. However, she knew better. That just couldn't be the case. She doubted that of all things, Castiel would choose to play Tiffany on the radio. Something else had to be going on.

The music continued. The TV and the lights flashed on and off. Windows cracked. The building was shaking, and all Skye knew was that she wasn't the one doing it. The only two things she could feel were pain and terror.

Then, she heard a voice in her head, fresher and clearer than ever.

"Skye, it's time for me to borrow your body again. Would you let me in?"

Skye let out a mirthless laugh. She had to be suffering from ghost sickness herself now. There was no other explanation.

"No," she said. "I won't, I can't."

She tried to lift herself off the floor, but a sharp pain spread across her left side. Her hand went right to the spot where Dean had kicked her as her head dropped to the floor. She tried to contain any moans of pain, but a few managed to slip out.

"You're hurt," the voice observed. Skye snorted against it but that only served to make the pain worse. "I can heal you, but you're going to have to let me in your body first."

Skye bit back a curse. The pain was so bad, she was having trouble breathing. She'd never experienced anything like that before. It was what she imagined being crushed to death felt like, and that brought with it even more dark thoughts…

"Skye, I'm not trying to hurt you. I'm trying to help you." Tears pricked her eyes. "Please, Skye."

Ultimately, the pain won out. It was blinding and honestly made her feel like she was going to die. With no other options, the only thing she could do was say "yes."

A blinding light consumed her vision. A voice that wasn't quite hers screamed "cover your eyes!"

Friendly reminder for everyone out there to only use Xanax as directed by a doctor. Might seem like a "well, duh," but I'd still like to cover my ass.

I had to look it up, but the Gumby clip that Dean was watching in the episode was a real clip from The Gumby Show (1955). The episode is titled "The Little Lost Pony" and is available to watch on YouTube, if anyone's interested. Yes, I really did watch an entire episode of Gumby just for context on a five second clip that was featured in an episode of Supernatural. Yes, I really am insane, thank you very much. Also, if you caught the implications, I was leaving there… ;)

Also, a re-watch of the Umbrella Academy might have slightly influenced my choice of songs for this chapter. Sorry not sorry.

Remember kids, I think we're alone now, doesn't seem to be anyone around!

Originally uploaded on 4/20/25.