#Mayday Foreman
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runawaycarouselhorse · 1 year ago
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"You look like a wet Altaria."
Queen of unflattering comparisons.
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aspenmissing · 1 year ago
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𝙿𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚘𝚖 𝚃𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚛 (𝙿𝚝 𝟷)
Dean is sleeping on his stomach, and Y/N is sitting on the bed next to him, a book in hand. As the door opens, Dean awakens and slips a hand under his pillow for a weapon. As he turns to look, he sees Sam entering, carrying coffee and pastries.
"Morning, sunshine," Sam says, handing Y/N her coffee and pastry.
"Thanks, Sammy," Y/N smiles, placing her book down.
"What time is it?" Dean mutters, still tired.
"Uh, it's about five forty-five."
"In the morning?"
"Yep!" Y/N chuckles.
"Where does the day go?" Dean sits up. "Did you get any sleep last night?"
"Yeah, I grabbed a couple of hours."
"Liar. ' Because I was up at three, and you were watching the George Foreman infomercial," Y/N says.
"Hey, what can I say? It's riveting TV."
"When was the last time you got a good night's sleep?"
"I don't know, a little while, I guess. It's not a big deal."
"Yeah, it is."
"Look, I appreciate your concern."
"Oh, I'm not concerned about you. It's your job to keep our asses alive," Dean says, pointing to him and Y/N. "So we need you sharp," Sam shrugs.
"Seriously, are you still having nightmares about Jess?" Sam crosses the room and sits on the bed Y/N's on, handing a coffee to Dean.
"Yeah. But it's not just her. It's everything. I just forgot, you know. This job. Man, it gets to you."
"You can't let it. You can't bring it home like that."
"So, what? All this... it never keeps you two up at night." Dean and Y/N shake their heads. "Never? You're never afraid?"
"No, not really," Dean and Y/N say in unison. Sam reaches under Dean's pillow to pull out a large hunting knife, then reaches under Y/N's pillow to pull out a handgun, holding them both up as evidence. Dean takes the knife back as Sam gives Y/N her gun back.
"That's not fear. This is a precaution."
"All right, whatever. I'm too tired to argue." Y/N's phone rings, and she answers it.
"Hello?"
"Y/N, it's, uh, it's Jerry Panowski. You, your brother, and your dad helped me out a couple of years ago."
"Oh, right, yeah. Up in Kittanning, Pennsylvania, the poltergeist thing. It's not back, is it?"
"No. No. Thank God, no. But it's something else, and... uh, I think it could be a lot worse."
"What is it?" Y/N turns serious.
"Can we talk in person?" Y/N eyes, Dean and Sam. They looked back.
==
"Thanks for making the trip so quick. I ought to be doing you guys a favour, not the other way around. These two and your dad helped me out."
"Yeah, she told me. It was a poltergeist." Sam says, gesturing to Y/N.
"Damn right, it was a poltergeist who practically tore our house apart. Tell you something: if it weren't for these two and your dad, I probably wouldn't be alive. Your dad said you were off at college. Is that right?"
"Yeah, I was. I'm taking some time off."
"Well, he was really proud of you. I could tell. He talks about you all the time."
"He did?" He glances at Y/N, who nods with a smile.
"Yeah, you bet he did. Oh, hey, you know, I tried to get a hold of him, but I couldn't. How's he doing, anyway?"
"He's, um, wrapped up in a job right now," Dean says.
"Well, we're missing the old man, but we get Sam. Even trade, huh?" The twins laugh.
"No, not by a long shot."
"I got something for you guys to hear." They walk into the office. "I listened to this, and, well, it sounded like it was up your alley." Jerry puts the CF on the drive. "Normally, I wouldn't have access to this. It's the cockpit voice recorder for United Britannia flight 2485. It was one of ours."
"Mayday! Mayday! Repeat! This is United Britannia 2485—immediate instruction help! United Britannia 2485, I copy your message:May be experiencing some mechanical failure... There is a loud whooshing sound."
"Took off from here, crashed about two hundred miles south. Now, they're saying mechanical failure. The cabin depressurized somehow. Nobody knows why. Over a hundred people were on board. Only seven got out alive. The pilot was one. His name is Chuck Lambert. He's a good friend of mine. Chuck is, uh, well, he's pretty broken up about it. Like it was his fault."
"You don't think it was?" Sam asks.
"No, I don't."
"Jerry, we're going to need passenger manifests—um, a list of survivors," Y/N asks.
"All right."
"And, uh, any way we can take a look at the wreckage?" Dean adds on.
"The other stuff is no problem. But the wreckage... fellas, the NTSB has it locked down in an evidence warehouse. No way I've got that kind of clearance." Dean frowns.
"No problem."
==
Y/N and Sam are waiting by the car outside a copyjack. Dean exits and goes over to the two.
"You've been in there forever." Dean holds up three IDs.
"You can't rush perfection."
"Homeland Security?" Sam takes one of the IDs, and Y/N takes another. "That's pretty illegal, even for us."
"Yeah, well, it's something new. Do you know? People haven't seen it a thousand times." They get in the car. "All right, so, what do you get?"
"Well, there's EVP on the cockpit voice recorder," Sam says.
"Yeah?" Y/N questions.
"Listen." Sam plays the tape, which has been edited to pull out a scratchy voice.
"No survivors!"
"No survivors? What's that supposed to mean? There were seven survivors," Dean says.
"Got me."
"So, what are you thinking? A haunted flight?" Y/N says.
"There's a long history of spirits and death omens on planes and ships, like phantom travellers."
"Mm-hmm."
"Or remember flight 401?" Sam asks.
"Right. The one that crashed, the airline salvaged some of its parts, put it in other planes, and then the spirit of the pilot and co-pilot haunted those flights," Y/N says.
"Right."
"Yep."
"Maybe we have a similar deal."
"All right, so, survivors, which one do you want to talk to first?" Y/N asks.
"Third on the list: Max Jaffey."
"Why him?" Dean asks.
"Well, for one, he's from around here. And two, if anyone saw anything weird, he did," Sam replies.
"What makes you say that?"
"Well, I spoke to his mother," Sam says. Max nods. "And she told me where to find him."
==
The Impala is parked in front of the gate to a building with a sign out front reading ‘RIVERFRONT PSYCHIATRIC HOSPITAL’.
==
Max is walking with a cane between Sam and Y/N, and Dean is walking on the other side of Sam.
"I don't understand. I already spoke with Homeland Security.”
"Right. Some new information has come up. So, if you could just answer a couple of questions, Y/N asks.
"Just before the plane went down, did you notice anything unusual?"
"Like what?"
"Strange lights, weird noises, maybe. Voices," Dean asks.
"No, nothing."
"Mr. Jaffey..." Y/N coughs, glaring at Dean.
"Jaffey," Max says.
"Jaffey. You checked yourself in here, right?" Y/N says. Max nods. "Can I ask why?"
"I was a little stressed. I survived a plane crash.”
"Uh-huh. And that's what terrified you? That's what you were afraid of."
Dean says.
"I... I don't want to talk about this anymore.”
"See, I think maybe you did see something up there. We need to know what.”
"No. No, I was delusional. Seeing things," Max says.
"He was seeing things," Dean says.
"It's okay. Then just tell us what you thought you saw, please," Sam says.
"There was...this-man. And, uh, he had these...eyes—these, uh, black eyes. And I saw him—or I thought I saw him."
"What?"
"He opened the emergency exit. But that's...that's impossible, right? I mean, I looked it up. There's something like two tonnes of pressure on that door.”
"Yeah."
"This man, uh, did he seem to appear and disappear rapidly? It would look something like a mirage." Y/N says.
"What are you, nuts?" Sam tilts his head. "He was a passenger. He was sitting right in front of me."
==
The Impala pulls up in front of a house.
"So here we are. George Phelps, seat 20C."
"Hmm. Man, I don't get how strong you are," Dean says as they get out of the car. "Even yoked up on PCP or something, there is no way you can open up an emergency door during a flight.”
"Not if you're human. But maybe this guy, George, was something else. Some kind of creature, maybe in human form," Y/N says.
"Does that look like a creature's lair to you?" Y/N turns to look at the perfectly ordinary house.
===
Dean, Sam, and Y/N sit across from Mrs. Phelps. Sam is looking at a framed photograph.
"This is your late husband?" Sam asks.
"Yes, that was my George.”
"And you said he was a... dentist?"
"Mm-hm. He was headed to a convention in Denver. Do you know that he was terrified to fly? For him to go like that."
"How long were you married?" Y/N asks.
"Thirteen years," she replies.
"In all that time, did you ever notice anything strange about him, anything out of the ordinary?"
"Well, uh, he had acid reflux, if that's what you mean." Y/N quietly sighs, and the three look at each other.
===
"I mean, it goes without saying. It just doesn't make any sense.”
"A middle-aged dentist with an ulcer is not exactly evil personified. You know what we need to do is get inside the NTSB warehouse and check out the wreckage," Dean says.
"Okay. But if we're going to go that route, we'd better look for the part.”
==
Dean and Sam exit a store, wearing crisp black suits with white shirts. Sam adjusts his collar.
"Man, I look like one of the Blues brothers," Dean says.
"No, you don't. You look more like a... seventh grader at his first dance," a voice says. They turn around to see Y/N, also dressed for the occasion, smiling. Dean just glares at her.
"I hate this thing."
"Hey. You want to go into that warehouse or not?" Sam asks. They walk over to the Impala.
==
They enter the warehouse and show their badges to the security guard, who nods and lets them in. As they are walking among the plane wreckage, Y/N pulls out a device and puts earbuds in his ears.
"What is that?" Sam asks.
"It's an EMF meter. Reads electromagnetic frequencies," Dean replies.
"Yeah, I know what an EMF metre is, but why does that one look like a busted-up Walkman?"
"Because that's what he made it out of. It's homemade," Y/N says as Dean grins.
"Yeah, I can see that." Y/N laughs when she sees Dean's grin disappear. Y/N runs the EMF metre over a piece of the wreckage with yellow dust on it and gets an audible spike.
"Check out the emergency door handle." Y/N scratches at the yellow dust and gets some on his hand. "What is this stuff?"
"One way to find out." Sam scrapes some of the yellow dust off into a bag.
==Outside==
Two agents in black suits approach the security desk and show their badges.
"Homeland Security? What, one team of you guys isn't enough?" The security guard asks.
"What are you talking about?"
"Three of your buddies went inside not five minutes ago. Two males and a smoking hot lady." The two agents look at each other.
==
The agents and several security guards busted in, guns down, and searched. Sam, Dean, and Y/N hear them coming. The agents and guards see nothing.
==
Sam, Dean, and Y/N peer around a corner and walk out casually. An alarm blares, and they run to the gated exit. Pulling off his suit jacket, Dean throws it over the barbed wire at the top of the fence. Y/N does the same with her heels, and they climb over. Dean and Y/N grab the belongings they threw over.
"Well, these monkey suits do come in handy.”
"But heels do not," Y/N says as the two run off, followed by Sam.
==
Sam, Dean, and Y/N are in full research mode, with images and articles taped to the wall and strewn across the beds, and Sam is looking at something on the computers. Dean is reading something on one bed while sitting on the other. Y/N is looking at the articles that are taped to the walls.
"So, every religion in every world culture has the concept of demons and demonic possession, right? I mean Christian, Native American, Hindu, you name it."
"Yeah, but none of them describe anything like this," Dean says.
"Well, that's not exactly true. You see, according to Japanese beliefs, certain demons are behind certain disasters, both natural and man-made. One causes earthquakes, another causes disease," Y/N says as Sam looks over, astonished.
"What, I like Japanese culture?"
"And this one causes plane crashes?" Dean gets up as Y/N walks up to Sam. "All right, so, what? We have a demon that's evolved with the times and found a way to ratchet up the body count."
"Yeah. You know, who knows how many places it's brought down before this one?" Dean snorts and turns away. "What.”
"I don't know, man. This isn't our normal gig. I mean, demons don't want anything, just death and destruction for their own sake. This is big. And I wish Dad was here."
"Yeah. Me too." Y/N also nodded in agreement. Her phone then rings, and she answers it.
"Hello?"
"Y/N, it's Jerry.”
"Oh, hey, Jerry."
"My pilot friend, Chuck Lambert, is dead."
"Wha-Jerry, I'm sorry. What happened?"
"He and his buddy went up in a small twin about an hour ago. The plane went down."
"Where'd this happen?"
"About sixty miles west of here, near Nazareth."
"I'll try to ignore the irony in that."
"I'm sorry?"
"Nothing. Jerry, hang in there, all right? We'll catch up with you soon." Y/N hangs up.
"Another crash?" Sam asks.
"Yeah. Let's go."
"Where?" Dean asks.
"Nazareth."
==
Jerry is again looking through a microscope.
"Sulphur?" Jerry nods. "Well, that's great. All right, that's two plane crashes involving Chuck Lambert. This demon sounds like it was after him.”
"With all due respect to Chuck, if that's the case, that would be the good news," Sam says.
"What's the bad news?" Y/N asks.
"Chuck's plane went down exactly forty minutes into the flight. And get this, so did flight 2485."
"Forty minutes? What does that mean?" Jerry asks.
"It's biblical numerology. You know Noah's ark; it rained for forty days. The number means death," Y/N explains.
"I went back, and there have been six planes crashed over the last decade that all went down exactly forty minutes in."
"No survivors," Dean mutters. Y/N thinks.
"It's going after all the survivors. It's trying to finish the job.”
==
Y/N is driving. Sam is on the phone. Dean is sitting shotgun, looking through some papers.
"Really? Well, thank you for taking our survey, and if you do plan to fly, please don't forget your friends at United Britannia Airlines. Thanks." Sam hangs up. "All right. That takes care of Blaine Sanderson and Dennis Holloway. They're not flying anytime soon.”
"So, our only wildcard is the flight attendant Amanda Walker," Dean says.
"Right. Her sister Karen said her flight leaves Indianapolis at eight p.m. It's her first night back on the job.”
"That sounds like just good luck."
"Y/N, this is a five-hour drive, man, even with you behind the wheel," Sam says, glancing her way.
"Call Amanda's cell phone again; see if we can't head her off at the pass," Y/N says.
"I already left her three voice messages. She must have turned her cell phone off," Sam says.
"God, we're never going to make it," Dean says.
"We'll make it."
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mersuperwholocked-lowlife · 4 years ago
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Phantom Traveler
Word Count: 5,503
Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, John Winchester (mentioned), Characters from 01x04
Pairings: Dean Winchester x Sister!Reader; Sam Winchester x Sister!Reader (platonic)
Warnings: angst, some small fluff scenes, 01x04 warnings
A/N: HOLY SHIT AFTER 5 MONTHS I FINISHED IT AND ITS BAD BUT ITS DONE
Masterlist         Series Rewrite Masterlist
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You were on an airplane, flight number 2485. You watched as a man got up from his seat, walking to the back of the plane, to the emergency door.
“Hey, what the hell are you doing?!” you heard another man yell.
His eyes were pitch black as he pulled the lever, opening the door.
You heard everyone’s screams, everyone in panic as the plane started crashing.
---
You jumped up in your bed, looking around anxiously. You frowned, realizing you were falling off the bed. You turned to Dean, who was still asleep, snoring loudly as you rolled your eyes.
You exhaled, trying to calm your heart rate. You turned to see a silhouette in front of you. 
“Sammy,” you jumped, seeing his figure walk across the room.
“Oh, hey,” he replied, giving you a small smile.
You leaned over Dean, checking the time. 
“It’s 5 in the morning. Why are you up?” you asked.
“I grabbed a few hours. I’m just not tired,” he shrugged.
“Okay….” you replied, finding it hard to believe him. 
“Why are you up?” he asked.
“Because Dean’s pushing me off the bed,” you replied as you sat up, running your fingers through your hair. 
Sam laughed softly, walking to you.
“Think you’d be used to it now… do you want to go get some breakfast?” he asked.
“Yeah, sure,” you nodded as you walked to the bathroom.
---
“So, I wanna know more about what happened,” Sam said as you two exited the hotel room.
It was still pretty dark outside as you put your jacket on, turning your head to face Sam.
“When?” you asked.
“The past few years, while I was at Stanford. What happened?” Sam asked as the two of you began walking.
“Dean was with dad mainly, we worked some hunts together, I spent a lot of time on my own,” you shrugged.
“On your own? Dad and Dean were okay with it?” he asked in disbelief.
“Dad didn’t really care, and some space was good for me and Dean anyway,” you replied.
“Space? Since when?” he asked.
“Since me and Dean started fighting over everything. But it’s all figured out now,” you said.
“Okay then…..” Sam paused, rubbing his head.
“Are you okay?” you raised an eyebrow.
“I have a headache, it’s fine,” he shook it off. 
“Okay then...” you raised an eyebrow, noticing a change in Sam’s behavior.
You shook your thoughts away, getting some coffee for the three of you. 
---
“Morning, sunshine,” Sam said, waking Dean up as the two of you entered the hotel room.
“Ugh, what time is it?” Dean groaned, staring back at the two of you.
“Uh, it’s about 5:45,” you replied.
“In the morning?!” Dean groaned.
“Yup,” you and Sam replied.
“Where does the day go? Did you two get any sleep last night?” he asked.
“Yeah, I grabbed a couple of hours,” Sam replied.
“It’s hard to sleep next to someone who snores like a pig and hogs the blanket like a toddler,” you glared at him.
Dean rolled his eyes at your remark, turning to Sam.
“See, I know that’s a lie cuz I saw you watching George Foreman infomercials at 3 AM, Dean groaned, sitting up. You raised an eyebrow, looking at Sam.
“Hey, what can I say it’s riveting TV,” he shrugged, walking to sit on his bed.
“You didn’t sleep? When’s the last time you had a good night’s sleep?” you crossed your arms, turning to him.
“I don’t know, a little while, I guess. It’s not a big deal,” he said.
“Yes, it is,” you and Dean replied.
“Look, I appreciate your concern,” Sam started.
“Oh, I’m not concerned. It’s your job to keep our asses alive, so you need to stay sharp,” Dean said.
“What he’s trying to say,” you interrupted Dean.
“Is that we’re worried about you. It’s not healthy. Are you still having nightmares about Jess?” you asked softly, sitting next to him.
“Yeah, but it’s not just about her, it’s about everything. This job, it gets to you,” Sam sighed.
“Well, you can’t let it, you can’t bring it home like that,” Dean took a sip of his coffee.
“So, you’ve never been kept up by this? Never afraid?” Sam asked.
“Not really,” Dean shrugged.
“(Y/N)?” Sam turned to you.
“Uhm, I guess not?” you replied.
Sam reached to yours and Dean’s bed, pulling a knife from under his pillow and a gun from yours.
You paused.
“Well, that’s not fear, that’s just a precaution,” you said.
“Alright, whatever. I’m too tired to argue,” Sam sighed.
You gave him a sorrowful look before Dean’s phone started ringing.
“Hello?” he said.
He shrugged, not knowing who it was.
“Oh, right, yeah, up in Kittanning, Pennsylvania, the poltergeist thing,” Dean remembered.
“It’s not back, is it?” he asked. 
“Who is that?” Sam whispered to you.
You shrugged, looking at Sam. Dean ended the phone call, looking at the two of you.
“Looks like we’re going to Pennsylvania,”
---
“Thanks for making the trip quick. I gotta be doing you guys a favor, not the other way around. Your dad and Dean really helped me out,” Jerry started, walking with you, Sam and Dean.
“Yeah, a poltergeist, right?” Sam asked.
“Poltergeist? I love that movie,” you heard a man say, walking past the four of you.
“Hey, nobody’s talking to you. Keep walking,” Jerry said.
“Damn right it was a poltergeist, practically tore apart our house. Tell you something, if it wasn’t for you and your dad,” he turned to Dean.
“I probably wouldn’t be alive,” he thanked Dean.
“Your dad said you were in college, and well, he didn’t say much about what you were up to,” Jerry asked you and Sam.
“Yeah, I was just taking some time off,” Sam said.
“And you?” he asked you.
“Uhm, just on my own for some time,” you replied, giving a small smile. 
“Well, he was really proud of you three, I could tell. He talked about you three all the time,” he said.
“He did?” Sam asked, not believing him.
“Yeah, oh, speaking of, I tried to get a hold of him, but I couldn’t. How’s he doing?’ Jerry asked Dean.
“Uhm, he’s working a job right now,” Dean lied.
“Oh, well, I got something I want you to hear,” he said as the four of you walked into his office.
“Now, normally I wouldn’t have access to this. It’s the cockpit recorder for United Britannia, flight 2485,” Jerry started, as you felt chills go down your spine.
“Sorry, did you say flight 2485?” you asked.
“Yeah, here it is,” he said, playing the recording, as you remembered your dream.
“Mayday! Maday!,”  you listened to the recording, remembering the man from your dream. As you continued listening, your mind drifting back, picturing the events. All the passengers screaming, the man opening the door.
“Took off from here, crashed about 200 miles south. Now, they’re saying mechanical failure. The cabin depressurized somehow. Nobody knows why, over 100 people on board. Only seven got out alive. The pilot was one. A good guy named Chuck Lambert. He’s pretty broken up about it like it was his fault,” Jerry explained.
“We’ll need passenger manifests, a list of survivors,” Sam started.
“Is there any way we can look at the wreckage?” you asked.
“The other stuff is no problem, but the wreckage? The NTSB has it locked down in an evidence warehouse. No way I’ve got that kind of clearance,” he apologized.
“No problem,” you shook your head. You motioned to Sam and Dean, waving to Jerry as the three of you left his office. 
---
You and Sam leaned on the Impala, waiting outside for Dean. He was currently making fake IDs for Homeland Security to get you three into the wreckage sight. You closed your eyes softly, clenching your jaw as you held your head, massaging it softly. 
“Do you have a headache?” Sam asked turning to you.
“Yeah, it’s fine,” you shook your head, sniffling softly. 
Sam opened his mouth to say something, but paused, turning away from you. Before you could question his choices, Dean walked out of the printing shop, holding up three IDs. 
“What the hell? You’ve been in there forever,” Sam complained as Dean smiled cheekily to the two of you.
“Can’t rush perfection,” he shrugged, with a cocky grin on his face.
“Homeland security? That’s pretty illegal, even for us,” Sam uncrossed his arms, standing up as he looked at Dean, then at you.
“Yeah, but it’s new,” Dean started, heading to the driver’s seat. “It’s something people haven’t seen a thousand times.
You rolled your eyes, as the three of you sat in the car.
“Alright, so what do you got?” Dean asked.
“There’s definitely E.V.P. on the cockpit recorder,” you started, handing Sam his laptop.
“Yeah?” Dean said.
Sam played the recording, hearing static before hearing a distorted voice say No survivors
Dean frowned, “No survivors? What’s the supposed to mean? There were seven survivors,” he pointed out.
“No idea,” Sam shrugged.
“Okay, so what are you thinking? A haunted flight?” Dean asked.
You paused, debating whether or not you wanted to tell Sam and Dean about your dream.
You were right about Jess, about Roy, about Lucas, so you were probably right about this.
“There’s a long history of spirits and death omens on planes and ships, like Phantom Travelers,” you remembered.
“Yeah, and like, flight 401?” Sam asked.
“Yeah, after it crashed, the airline salvaged its parts, put it on another plane, then the spirits of the pilot and the copilot haunted those flights,” Dean said.
“Yeah, maybe we got a similar deal?” Sam asked.
“No, I don’t think it’s like that,” you said.
“10 bucks says you’re wrong,” Dean smiled.
“Dean, I’m serious,” you rolled your eyes.
“Well, how do you know?” he asked. Both Sam’s and Dean’s eyes were on you.
“I-I’m just guessing,” you shrugged, your voice going low.
“Yeah, cuz guessing is what kills the bad guys,” Dean sassed.
You glared at him before Sam interrupted.
“Okay, off-topic. Maybe you’re right, (Y/N), but we should still go out and ask all the survivors,” Sam sighed.
“Okay, let’s go to number three on the list, Max Jaffey,” Sam pointed to his name.
“Why him?” Dean asked.
“Well, he’s from around here, and also, if anyone saw anything weird, he did,” Sam said. 
“What makes you say that?” Dean asked.
“I spoke to his mother, and she told me where to find him,” 
---
The three of you walked into the Riverfront Psychiatric Hospital, asking to speak to Max.
“I don’t understand, I already spoke to Homeland Security,” he said.
You felt shivers go down your spine as a sense of familiarity washed over you. He was in the dream too. 
“Right, some new information came up. So, if you could just answer a couple questions,” Dean started.
“Just before the plane went down, did you notice anything… unusual?” you asked him.
“Like what?” he asked.
“Strange lights, weird noises, maybe voices,” Sam continued.
“No, nothing,” he shrugged. The four of you sat down at a table.
“Mhm, Mr.Joffey,” Dean started.
“Jaffey,” he raised his eyebrow.
“Jaffey. You checked yourself in here, right?” Dean said.
He looked at Dean cautiously before nodding. 
“Can I ask why?” you looked at him.
“I was a little stressed. I survived a plane crash,” he sassed, a hint of anger in his tone.
“Uh-huh. And that’s what terrified you? That’s what you were afraid of?” you asked, thinking of a way to get him to admit what you saw in your dream. 
“I-I don’t wanna talk about this anymore,” he said.
“Cuz I think maybe you did see something up there. We need to know what,” Dean said.
“No, I was delusional, seeing things,” he shook his head.
Dean looked at you, then at Sam.
“He was seeing things,” Dean scoffed.
You rolled your eyes as Sam glared at Dean.
“It’s okay. Just tell us what you thought you saw,” Sam said.
“It’s not important,” he said.
You took a deep breath, knowing he wasn’t going to answer truthfully anytime soon.
“There was someone there, right?” you said, looking into his eyes to avoid Sam and Dean. 
You saw Sam and Dean’s gazes fall on you, looking confused.
“A man was there, right?” you asked again.
Max hesitated before nodding. Sam and Dean tensed up, looking at him.
“He had these eyes… these black eyes,” Max started, “I saw him… I thought I saw him…” his voice drifted off as he remembered the incident. 
“What?” Dean asked.
“He opened the emergency exit,” he said.
Dean raised his eyebrow, looking at you, then back at Max.
“But that’s impossible, I looked it up. There’s like two tons on that door,” he said.
“This man, did he seem to appear and disappear rapidly? Like a mirage?” Sam asked.
What? You looked at Sam.
“What are you, nuts? He was a passenger. Sat right in front of me.” 
---
“Here we are, George Phelps, seat 20C,” Sam said, as the three of you exited the car.
“Man, I don’t care how strong you are, even yolked up on PCP or something, no way you can open an emergency door during a flight,” Dean pointed out.
“Yeah, no human can,” you replied.
“Maybe he’s some type of creature, or something,” Sam suggested.
“Does that look like a creature’s lair to you?” Dean raised an eyebrow, pointing to his house.
You shrugged, your mind still thinking about demonic possession. 
---
“This was your late husband?” Sam asked, picking up a picture frame on the woman’s table.
“Yes,” she nodded, her eyes watery.
Your heart jumped, seeing the man in your dream.
“H-He was a dentist?” you asked her.
“Yes, he was headed to a convention in Denver,” she nodded.
Dean nodded, looking at you.
“Did you know he was petrified to fly?” she started.
The three of you slightly tensed, more interested in the conversation.
“For him to go like that….” she paused, taking a deep breath.
“How long were the two of you married for?” Sam asked.
“13 years,” she sniffled.
“In all that time, did you ever notice anything… strange about him? Anything out of the ordinary?” you asked.
“Well…” she started.
The three of you looked curiously at her.
“He had acid reflux if that’s what you mean,” she said.
You smiled awkwardly at her, nodding your head.
---
“We need to check out that wreckage,” Dean sighed.
“Yeah, well, we gotta look the part,” Sam smirked, walking off.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dean asked you.
You laughed softly, shrugging as you walked off with Dean.
---
“Man, I look like one of the Blues Brothers,” Dean groaned, picking at his collar of the suit.
“No you don’t,” Sam sighed.
“You look like an adorable little seventh-grader at his first dance,” you teased.
“I hate you,” Dean said, glaring at you.
“You can look like a porcupine in a suit if I just…” you ran your fingers through his hair, pulling them upwards. 
He immediately hit your hand, pushing you away.
Sam cleared his throat, in an attempt to hold in his laughter as the three of you walked to the car.
---
The three of you showed your fake IDs, entering the wreckage site. Dean pulled out his EMF reader.
“What’s that?” Sam asked.
“It’s an EMF meter. It reads electromagnetic frequencies,” Dean explained.
“Yeah, I know what an EMF meter is but why does this one look like a busted up walkman?” Sam said, Dean, standing in front of the two of you.
“Cuz that’s what I made it out of. It’s homemade,” Dean smiled, trying to show it off.
“Dean, that’s never worked before,” you sighed, crossing your arms. 
“Yes it does,” he replied.
“No it doesn’t,” you said.
“Yes, it does.”
“No, it doesn’t”
“Yes, it does!”
“No!”
“Yes!”
“Shut up!” Sam exclaimed, rolling his eyes.
“No it doesn’t,” you said quickly, earning a glare from both of them.
The three of you walked through all the parts of the plane, Dean scanning them with the EMF meter.
You heard it beep, as you neared the emergency exit’s handle.
“No friggin way,” you scoffed.
Dean smiled cockily at you before Sam elbowed him.
“What is this stuff?” Dean asked, scraping a scrap from the plane wreck with his nail, sniffing it before making a disgusted face. 
“Only one way to find out,” Sam said, taking out a pocket knife to get a sample. 
“Okay, got it,” Sam handed you the sample.
“Now, let’s get out of here.”
---
“Sulfur,” you nodded your head, realizing you were right. It was demonic possession. Just like your dream.
“So, it’s a demon,” you said.
“Yeah, it would explain how a mortal man would have the strength to open an emergency hatch,” Dean said.
“If the guy was possessed, it’s possible,” Sam shrugged, looking up at the two of you. 
“This goes way beyond floating over a bed or barfing pea soup. I mean, it’s one thing to possess a person, but to use them to take down an entire airplane?” Dean questioned.
“You ever heard of something like that?” Sam asked.
“No, but that doesn’t technically make it impossible,” you replied.
You looked at Dean, noticing him giving you a look.
“Is there a problem?” you crossed your arms.
“No, not at all,” he replied, looking away as you rolled your eyes.
---
“So, every religion in every world culture has the concept of demons and demonic possession, right? Christain, Native Americans, Hindu, you name it,” Sam started, explaining his research to you and Dean while the three of you sat in the hotel room. 
“None describe anything like this,” Dean pointed out.
“That’s not exactly true. According to Japanese beliefs, certain demons are behind certain disasters, both natural and man-made. One causes earthquakes, another causes disease,” Sam replied.
“And this one causes plane crashes?” you heard Sam and Dean talk, not listening to their words as you sat on the bed, looking through John’s journal for the 100th time. Maybe he would know something about what was happening, or what was happening to you. 
You looked through his book carefully, trying to find anything.
You came across a page, (Y/N)
Shivers went down your spine as you spotted your name. You looked down the page, trying to see what he wrote. Most of the writing was smeared, in ruins, as you made out a few words. Can’t know… mother. You looked confused, trying to make sense.
“Hello? Earth to idiot?” Dean waved his hand in front of your face as you flinched back.
“Care to share with the rest of us?” he sassed.
You rolled your eyes, smacking his hand as he exclaimed.
“What’s your problem?!” he exclaimed.
“What do you mean?! You’re the one who’s waving your stupid hand in my face and bugging me!” you yelled.
“Yeah, cuz you’re not answering us!” he yelled back.
“Now’s not the time, seriously, guys,” Sam groaned, rubbing his head.
Before you could reply, Dean’s phone started ringing.
He glared at you before picking it up.
“Hey,” Dean answered.
“What? Jerry, I’m sorry that happened,” Dean said.
“Where did this happen?” you and Sam looked at each other before looking at Dean. 
“Jerry, hang in there, we’ll catch up with you soon,” Dean ended the call, sighing loudly.
“Another crash?” you asked.
“Yeah. Let’s go,” Dean grabbed his jacket as you hopped off the bed.
“Where?” Sam asked.
“Nazareth.”
---
“Okay, so two plan crashes with Chuck Lambert. Maybe the demon was after him?” Dean suggested. 
“Well, with all due respect to Chuck, that would be the good news,” Sam said. 
“Then what’s the bad news?” you asked, turning to Sam.
“Chuck’s plane went down exactly 40 minutes into the flight. And so did 2485,” he said, crossing his arms. 
“40 minutes? What does that mean?” Jerry asked the three of you.
“Biblical numerology. You know, like Noah’s ark, it rained for 40 days. The number means death,” you explained.
“There’s been 6 plan crashes over the last decade that all went down 40 minutes in,” Sam explained.
“So, those had no survivors… I don’t think it’s about Chuck specifically, the demon’s targeting all the survivors. It’s trying to finish the job,” you pointed out, turning to Dean. 
He rubbed his head, nodding softly.
---
“Amanda’s sister said she has another flight leaving Indianapolis at 8:00. I left her three voicemails already, she’s not answering,” you sat up in the Impala, looking at Sam and Dean. 
“Dean, even with you behind the wheel, there’s no way we’ll make it in time,” Sam shook his head.
You could hear the soft purr of the engine running grow louder as the speed fastened.
“We’ll make it,” Dean continued looking at the road, his hands gripping this wheel as his knuckles turned white.
---
The three of you ran into the airport, as you looked at the list of flights on the screen. 
“There. They’re boarding in 30 minutes,” Sam pointed out. 
“I need a phone. We’ll just call her,” Dean said. 
You spotted a courtesy phone, running to it as Sam and Dean followed you. 
“Hi. Gate 13,” Dean said into the phone.
You could feel another headache coming to you as you dug your nails into your palm. 
“I’m trying to contact Amanda Walker. She’s a flight attendant on flight 424,” Dean said.
You bit your bottom lip, feeling a pounding sensation take over your head. You could hear screams echoing through your ears. She wasn’t going to stop getting on that flight. Even if she did, it wouldn’t end. That demon would still hurt people. 
“(Y/N)?” Dean turned to you.
“We need to get on that plane,” you started, clenching your jaw tightly.
“What? Okay, hold on,” Dean started.
“No. Dean, even if Amanda doesn’t go on that flight, this demon is still going to kill people. We need to stop it,” you shook your head. 
“No, you listen to me,” Dean said in a hushed voice.
“I agree with (Y/N). Look, me and (Y/N)’ll go get tickets. Grab a bag and put stuff that’ll make it through security. We’ll meet back here in five minutes, okay?” Sam asked.
You nodded your head, turning to Dean as his face went pale. 
“Dean? Is there a problem?” you asked.
“No.. not really,” he tapped his foot anxiously.
“What? What’s wrong?” you and Sam immediately gave him a worried look. 
“Well, I kind of have this problem with... Uh…” he sighed deeply, as you ran your fingers through your hair.
“With flying,” you scoffed.
“What?” Sam exclaimed.
“Well, it’s never been an issue until now!” Dean yelled. 
“You’re joking, right?” Sam’s jaw dropped as he stared at Dean.
“Do I look like I’m joking?! Why do you think I drive everywhere, Sam?!” he said.
You cleared your throat, holding in a laugh.
“Don’t even start. At least I’m not afraid of freaking needles,” Dean glared at you, raising a finger.
“How do you have a tattoo if you’re afraid of needles?” Sam asked. 
“Okay, none of this is important. Dean, just stay here then. Me and Sam will go,” you suggested.
“Are you crazy? That plane’s gonna crash!” Dean said.
“Dean, either you come with us or we’ll go by ourselves. I’m not seeing a third option here,” Sam shook his head. 
“Oh, come on! Really?!” Dean looked around anxiously, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“Dammnit,” he whined, running to the Impala. 
---
“Just try to relax,” Sam said to Dean, who was reading some flyer. 
“Just try to shut up,” he growled. Sam turned away from Dean, trying not to laugh.
You sat in the corner seat, by the window, watching as the plane took off. You turned to Dean, seeing him tense in his seat while his eyes widened. You could see him visibly holding onto the armrest. 
You could hear Dean humming, going a little while longer into the flight, while you kept checking the time. 
“Look man, I get you’re nervous, but you gotta stay focused, okay?” Sam asked softly. 
“We have 32 minutes to find who it’s possessing, and perform an exorcism,” you said.
“We need to find someone with some type of emotional distress, someone who has an addiction, someone who’s struggling,” Dean said. 
“What about Amanda?” Sam suggested.
“I don’t know…” one of the flight attendants walked by as Dean stopped them, asking if they were Amanda.
“Well, that’s gotta be Amanda back there,” Dean said.
You looked back at her, raising your eyebrow. Something made it difficult to believe she was possessed, but there was no way you could say that without any actual proof. 
“I’m gonna go talk to her,” Dean opened his bag, grabbed a water bottle filled with holy water.
“I think we can be more subtle than that. If she’s a demon, she’ll flinch at the name of God,” Sam said.
Dean nodded, standing up as Sam called him back.
“What?” he asked.
“Say it in Latin,” Sam said.
“Okay,” he turned again.
“Hey!” you whispered, calling him back.
“What?!” he whisper-yelled, slightly annoyed.
“In Latin, it’s Cristo,”  you said.
“I know, I’m not an idiot!” he rolled his eyes, walking to Amanda. 
---
“Well, she’s gotta be the most well-adjusted person on the planet,” Dean said, breathing heavily as he sat back down.
“You said, Cristo?”
“Yeah,”
“And?”
“There’s no demon in her. There’s no demon getting in her. That means it can be in anyone, anywhere,” Dean said.
You felt turbulence shake the plane as Dean yelled out.
“Come on, that can’t be normal!” he exclaimed.
“Hey, keep it together,” you whispered.
“This plane is going to crash, stop treating me like I’m friggin 4!” Dean said.
“You need to calm down. Panicking makes you open to demonic possession,” Sam said in a calm voice. 
Dean nodded, taking deep breaths to calm himself. 
“I found this exorcism. There are two parts. The first will expel the demon from the person’s body, which will actually make it stronger, but then the second part is gonna send it back to hell,” you explained. 
“Well, first things first, we have to find it.”
---
Dean walked through the aisle with his busted up walkmen, as you walked to him, putting your hand on his shoulder.
“Don’t do that!” he jumped.
“Sorry, did you find anything?” you asked.
He shook his head, putting the EMF detector into his pocket.
You felt a shiver go through you as you tensed slightly, looking at the copilot as he walked out in front of you and Dean.
“Cristo,” you said softly.
He flinched, looking back to you as his eyes were black. 
You took a deep breath, looking at Dean.
“What is it?” he said.
“It’s him.”
---
“She’s not gonna believe this,” the three of you made your way to the back of the plane, to Amanda. It looked like you needed her help to get the pilot to the back.
“Oh, hi. Hope the flight’s not too bumpy for you,” she smiled at Dean, walking to the three of you. 
“Actually, that’s kind of what we need to talk to you about,” Dean said. Sam closed the curtain behind you. 
“Uh, sure. What can I do for you?” she asked.
“This is gonna sound nuts, but we don’t have time for the whole ‘the truth is out there’ speech right now,” Dean started.
“Okay, look. We know you were on flight 2485,” you said.
Her face dropped as she looked at you three.
“Who are you guys?” she asked. 
“We’ve spoken to some of the other survivors. We know something bought down that plane and it wasn’t a mechanical failure,” you said.
“We need to stop it from happening again. Here. Now,” Dean said.
“I-I’m sorry, I’m very busy,” she shook her head nervously, trying to walk out as Dean put his hand on her shoulder.
“Okay, just wait a second. We’re not gonna hurt you, okay? Just listen. Chuck Lambert, the pilot from 2485? He’s dead,” Sam said.
“W-What?! Chuck is dead?” she exclaimed.
“He died in a plane crash. That’s two plane crashes. That doesn’t strike you as strange?” Dean said.
She stuttered, at a loss for words.
“There was something wrong with 2485. There’s something wrong with this flight too,” you said.
“Amanda, you have to believe us,” Dean said.
She stared at the three of you in silence, before scratching her head.
“On… On 2485, there was this man. He… had these eyes,” she started.
“Yeah, t-that’s exactly what we’re talking about,” Sam said.
“What are you asking me to do?” she asked.
“Get the co-pilot. We need you to bring him back here,” you explained.
“Why? What does he have to do with anything?” she asked. 
“Don’t have time to explain. We just need to talk to him,” Dean said. 
“Well, how am I supposed to go to the cockpit and get the copilot…” she said, frustrated.
“Whatever… just whatever it takes. Tell him something broke, whatever will get him out of that cockpit,” Sam said.
“You know, I could lose my job,” she started.
“You’re gonna lose a lot more than that if you don’t help us out,” you said.
She took a deep breath, agreeing. 
The three of you watched as she made her way to the cockpit, getting the copilot, leading him to the back. 
As he entered, Dean punched him, knocking him to the ground while you quickly sat on top of him, putting duct tape over his mouth. Sam threw you the holy water, as you poured it all over the copilot, watching it burn him. 
“Y-You said you were just gonna talk to him,” Amanda said frantically. 
“Wait outside the curtain, don’t let anyone in,” Sam said to Amanda.
She ran outside, taking a deep breath.
“Sam, hurry up!” you continued to hold him down, struggling.
“O-Okay… Regna terrae, cantate Deo, psallite Domino…” Sam started.
The demon punched you, pushing you off of him as you groaned softly, your back hitting the wall, while he ripped the tape off his mouth, kicking Dean away.
He grabbed Sam, his eyes turning black.
“I know what happened to your girlfriend,” Sam froze, looking at him.
“Sam! Now!” you said, holding him down once again, Dean helping you. 
Sam finished the exorcism, as a black cloud left the copilot’s body, going through the vents.
“Come on, we have to find it,” the three of you quickly got up, running out of the cabinet as the plane began falling. Dean fell into the corner, holding on while Sam grabbed your arm. 
You could hear the screams of the other passengers, as you fell to the ground.
“The book!” you crawled to John’s journal, reaching for it before it was kicked away.
You groaned, finally reaching it as you heard the alarms go off, along with Dean and the other passengers screaming. 
You quickly turned to the page, reciting the exorcism, holding Sam’s arm for balance. You immediately heard the engine stabilize, the alarms turning off as everyone breathed heavily, holding onto their families or whoever was next to them.
You exhaled heavily, as you and Sam made your way to Dean, helping him up.
---
The three of you walked out, as you looked at Sam softly.
“Are you okay?” you asked.
“(Y/N)... it knew about Jessica,” he said softly.
“Sam… these things… they read minds. They lie, okay? That’s all they did,” you said.
“Yeah,” he whispered.
You gave him a sorrowful look, wrapping your arms around him and Dean, walking out of the airport.
---
“Nobody knows what you guys did. But I do. A lot of people could’ve died, thank you. You’re dad’s gonna be real proud,” Jerry shook your hand, as you nodded softly, giving him a small smile. 
“Hey, how did you get my number anyway?” Dean asked.
“Your dad,” the three of you immediately tensed, looking at him.
“What?” you said softly.
“When?” Sam asked.
“You talked to him?” Dean asked.
“Well, not directly. I called his number and his voicemail said to call you,” Jerry explained. 
The three of you got into the car, heading off.
---
“It doesn’t make sense. Look, I tried to call Dad so many times. His number’s out of service,” Sam said. The three of you sat on the back of the Impala, parked in the middle of nowhere.
Dean called his number, putting it on speaker.
“This is John Winchester. I can’t be reached, If this is an emergency, call my son Dean…” your eyes watered slightly, listening to the voicemail.
You sniffled softly, biting your lip as you got up, sitting in the back, hearing Sam and Dean talking before they both entered.
Dean began driving, as you took out your phone, texting John once again.
Where are you, Dad?
Please be okay
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waywardaardvark79 · 5 years ago
Text
Supernatural Rewrite: Season 1 Episode 4: Phantom Traveler
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Summary: Y/N Singer joins Sam and Dean on the road. A rewrite starring you.
Pairing: eventual Dean x Reader, Sam x Reader (platonic)
Warnings: language, show level violence
Word Count: 8,724
A/N: I’ll try to do at least one episode a week. No set schedule.
Dean was in that perfect middle ground state, stuck right in between being awake and asleep, everything a warm, hazy glow, and comfortable. God, was he comfortable.
He took a deep breath, the smell of strawberries hitting him, taking over his senses, his mouth turning up a little at the corner because of the images that were flooding his brain. You. You were the only thing he was seeing. He couldn't help himself anytime he smelled strawberries he instantly thought of you. You always seemed to smell like them, and he found it calming, a constant in an ever changing world.
Dean never really had anything constant, stable, in his life, not counting his brother, but even Sam had went away for awhile, leaving him spiraling for something familiar. That's why he hauled ass to Sioux Falls, South Dakota that night. He needed to be reminded that there were still constants in the world. That there was still one thing he could count on to not change, and you smelling like strawberries was it. He knew it was stupid. It was completely ridiculous that something so simple, so trivial could mean that much to a person. I mean, it was just shampoo.
It was something that he would never admit out loud, afraid of how crazy it would come off. I mean, to say that the smell of your strawberry shampoo was sometimes the only thing that kept him grounded somedays was insane, right?
He found himself dwelling on how outrageous it was sometimes, but no matter the thoughts that crossed his mind, they always ended with you. Then he would think that maybe it wasn't the strawberry shampoo that was the constant he could count on, maybe it was just you, after all. He could always count on you, and that brought a peace to him that he never thought he would have. 
The sound of the door opening pulled him from his blissful state, his hand automatically reaching under his pillow for a weapon as he turned his head to see who it was.
"Morning Sunshine." Sam said as he walked in, carrying a tray of coffees and pastries.
"What time is it?" Dean croaked out, you shifting in your sleep and tossing your leg over him.
"Uh, it's about five forty-five." Sam said.
"In the morning?" Dean asked, a little annoyed to be awake that early.
"Yep." Sam replied.
"Where does the day go?" Dean asked as he untangled himself from you so that he could sit up, being careful not to wake you as you were definitely not a morning person. "Did you get any sleep last night?" he asked once he was free of you, reaching up to move a strand of hair that had fallen across your face.
Sam watched the moment unfold before him, a feeling he couldn't place hitting him, "Yeah, I grabbed a couple hours." he replied.
"Liar. Cause I was up at three, and you and Y/N were watching a George Foreman informercial." Dean said, staring him down.
Sam scoffed, "No, we weren't." he said, knowing just how worried you and Dean were about him.
"Really? Cause I'm pretty sure I heard Y/N talking about how she would kill someone for one of those fuckin' steaks." Dean said, choosing to leave out what else he heard.
"Hey, what can I say? It's riveting TV, and you know infomercials about food always make her hungry, and then she wants to order whatever it is they are talking about." Sam said, smiling a little about how you always insisted on ordering everything you saw on TV, Bobby's kitchen full of different appliances.
"Did she order the grill?" Dean asked.
"Someone wouldn't let me." you said, sitting up in bed, sleepily rubbing your eyes. "Why the fuck are we awake right now?"
"I, uh, couldn't sleep, but I got coffee." Sam said before thrusting a cup in your face.
You accepted it, looking up at him with a sad smile, "Thanks." you said, wishing there was something you could do to make him feel better.
"When was the last time you got a good nights sleep?" Dean asked.
"I don't know, a little while, I guess. It's not a big deal." Sam said as you got out of bed, making your way over to the pastries he bought.
"Yeah, it is." Dean said.
"Look, I appreciate your concern-" Sam tried to say before Dean interrupted.
"Oh, I'm not concerned about you. It's your job to keep our asses alive. We need you sharp." Dean explained.
You whipped around, powder from the powdered doughnut you were eating covering your mouth, "Hey! I think I've done a pretty good job of keeping us alive so far, but maybe you're right, Dean." you said before turning to face Sam. "I'm officially passing the responsibility of keeping our asses alive to you. Good luck with that one." you said, pointing to Dean, Sam smiling a little.
Dean scoffed, "If he's gonna need luck with anything, it's you." Dean shot back.
"Please, don't be ridiculous, Dean. I'm constantly savin' your ass. Plus, there's the fact that every time you see a pair of boobs anywhere near you, you get distracted." you said, before licking your lips to get the powder from your doughnut.
"Oh, that real cute. Especially coming from the person that told one of the cops a few cases back that she bet she could bounce a nickel off that fuckin' ass, and then if I'm remembering right...pulled a nickel out of her pocket and said wanna give it a try, cowboy." Dean said, a completely serious look on his face as he looked at you.
You threw your hands in the air, "Sue me! The man had a great ass. I was only being nice and giving him a compliment. Plus, that case was over so it doesn't count." you said, crossing your arms over your chest.
Sam sighed, "I forgot how alike the two of you are. It's a little disturbing." Sam said, looking between you and Dean.
The three of you were silent for a few moments, "Seriously, are you still having nightmares about Jess?" Dean finally asked, getting back on track.
Sam crossed the room, and sat down on the other bed, handing a coffee to Dean, "Yeah, but it's not just her. It's everything. I just forgot, you know? This job. Man, it gets to you." Sam said.
"You can't let it get to you, Sam." you said coming to sit next to him.
"Yeah, you can't bring it home like that." Dean added.
"So, what? All this it...never keeps you guys up at night?" Sam asked.
"Nope." you said, Dean shaking his head no.
"Never? You guys are never afraid?" Sam asked, reaching under Dean's pillow to pull out a large hunting knife, holding it up as evidence. "And I'm willing to bet there's one on your side, too." he said, looking over at you.
Dean took the knife back. "That's not fear. That is precaution." he said.
You nodded your head, "Yeah, I just call that being smart." you said.
"All right, whatever. I'm too tired to argue with you two." Sam said, Dean's phone ringing seconds later.
"Hello." he said, you and Sam focusing on him. "Oh right, yeah. Up in Kittanning, Pennsylvania...the poltergeist thing. It's not back is it?" Dean asked, and even though you could only hear Dean's side of the conversation you knew who he was talking to. "What is it?" Dean asked again, after a pause, eyeing you as he listened to the response. 
"Thanks for making the trip so quick. I ought to be doing you guys a favor, not the other way around. Dean, Y/N, and your dad really helped me out." Jerry said to Sam.
"Yeah, they told me. It was a poltergeist?" Sam asked, the four of you walking to Jerry's office inside of the hangar.
"Poltergeist? Man, I loved that movie." one of the workers said in passing, causing you to chuckle.
"Hey, nobody's talking to you. Keep walking. Damn right it was a poltergeist, practically tore our house apart. Tell you something if it wasn’t for those two and your dad, I probably wouldn't be alive. Your dad said you were off at college. Is that right?" Jerry asked. 
"Yeah, I was. I'm...taking some time off." Sam answered.
"Well, he was real proud of you. I could tell. He talked about you all the time." Jerry said.
"He did?" Sam asked, shocked.
"Yeah, you bet he did. Oh, hey you know I tried to get a hold of him but I couldn't. How's he doing, anyway?" Jerry asked.
"Good." you blurted out.
"Yeah, he's, um, wrapped up in a job right now." Dean said.
"Well, we're missing the old man, but we get Sam. Even trade, huh?" Jerry asked, you and Dean laughing.
"No, not by a long shot." Sam replied. 
"I got something I want you guys to hear." Jerry said, the four of you now in his office. "I listened to this, and well, it sounded like it was up your alley." he said, putting a cd into a drive. "Normally, I wouldn't have access to this. It's the cockpit voice recorder for United Britannia flight 2485. It was one of ours." Jerry said before the recording started to play.
"Mayday! Mayday! Repeat! This is United Britannia 2485- immediate instruction help! United Britannia 2485, I copy your message- May be experiencing some mechanical failure..." the voice said before a loud whooshing sound.
"Took off from here, crashed about two hundred miles south. Now, they're saying mechanical failure, cabin depressurized somehow. Nobody knows why. Over a hundred people on board, and only seven got out alive. Pilot was one. His name is Chuck Lambert. He's a good friend of mine. Chuck is, uh...well, he's pretty broken up about it, like it was his fault." Jerry said.
"You don't think it was?" Sam asked.
"No, I don't." Jerry said.
"Don't worry, Jerry. We'll figure it out." you said. 
"Jerry, we're gonna need passenger manifests, um, a list of survivors." Sam rattled off.
"And, uh, any way we can take a look at the wreckage?" Dean asked.
"The other stuff is no problem, but the wreckage...the NTSB has it locked down in an evidence warehouse. No way I've got that kind of clearance." Jerry said, Dean frowning.
"No problem." Dean said, you cocking your head to the side, wondering what he had planned. 
You and Sam were waiting by the car outside of a Copy Jack, Dean finally walking out as an attractive woman was walking in, the two of them taking a few moments to say hello to each other.
"You've been in there forever." Sam said.
Dean held up three IDs, "You can't rush perfection." he said.
You snatched your ID from his hand, "My perfection never takes that long." you sassed, looking down at the ID.
"Homeland Security?" Sam asked, taking his ID.
"Awesome." you excitedly said, "We haven't done this yet."
"That's pretty illegal, even for us." Sam said.
"Yeah, well, like she said, it's something new. You know? People haven't seen it a thousand times." Dean said, smiling a little at how excited you were. 
The three of you got in the car, "All right, so what did you guys get?" Dean asked.
"Well, there's definitely EVP on the cockpit voice recorder." Sam said.
"Yeah?" Dean asked.
"Oh, fuck yeah, there is." you said, leaning up from the backseat.
"Listen." Sam said, before playing the recording, a scratchy voice saying "No survivors." playing.
"No survivors? What's that supposed to mean? There were seven survivors." Dean said.
"I know. That's what I said, too." you said.
"Got me." Sam replied.
"So, what are you guys thinking? A haunted flight?" Dean asked.
"Maybe." you said shrugging your shoulders, "I think it's a little early to call it just yet."
"There's a long history of spirits and death omens on planes and ships, like phantom travelers." Sam said, you and Dean both humming in agreement, "or remember flight 401?"
"Right. The one that crashed. The airline salvaged some of it's parts, put it in other planes, then the spirit of the pilot and copilot haunted those flights." Dean said.
"Right." Sam said.
"Well, maybe it's kind of the same thing here, a similar deal." you said.
"All right, so survivors, which one do you guys want to talk to first?" Dean asked.
"Third on the list, Max Jaffey." Sam said.
"Oh, yeah." you said, nodding.
"Why him?" Dean asked.
"Well, for one, he's from around here." Sam said, you quickly jumping in.
"And two, if anyone saw anything weird, he did. This is our fuckin' guy." you said.
"What makes you guys say that?" Dean asked.
"Well, I spoke to his mother." Sam answered, the impala coming to a stop in front of the gate to a building with a sign out front reading RIVERFRONT PSYCHIATRIC HOSPITAL. "And she told me where to find him."
"This guy has definitely seen some shit." you said, the three of you preparing to interview Max Jaffey.
Max was walking with a cane between Sam and Dean, Dean making sure to keep you close to his side in case any of the crazies, as he called them, got any ideas.
"I don't understand. I already spoke with Homeland Security." Max said.
"Right. Some new information has come up. So, if you could just answer a couple questions..." Dean trailed off.
"We only need a few moments of your time, Mr. Jaffey, and we would greatly appreciate anything you could offer." you said, smiling kindly at him.
"Just before the plane went down, did you notice anything...unusual?" Sam asked.
"Like what?" Max asked.
"Strange lights, weird noises, maybe, voices." Dean said.
"Maybe a strange smell." you added.
"No, nothing." Max said.
"Mr. Joffey." Dean said.
"Jaffey." Max interrupted, correcting him.
"Jaffey. You checked yourself in here, right?" Dean asked, Max nodding his head, "Can I ask why?"
"I was a little stressed. I survived a plane crash." Max said.
"Uh huh, and that's what terrified you? That's what you were afraid of?" Dean asked.
"I...I don't want to talk about this anymore." Max said, clearly uncomfortable.
"See, I think maybe you did see something up there. We need to know what." Dean said.
"No. No, I was...delusional. Seeing things." he said.
"He was seeing things." Dean sassed.
"Mr. Jaffey, we would really appreciate your cooperation." you said.
"It's ok. Just tell us what you thought you saw, please." Sam said.
"There was...this...man, and, uh, he had these...eyes, these, uh...black eyes, and I saw him, or I thought I saw him..." he said, trailing off, your body tensing when he said black eyes, hoping he was wrong.
"What?" Dean asked, eager to know the rest.
"He opened the emergency exit, but that's...that's impossible, right? There's something like two tons of pressure on that door." he said, you shaking your head.
"Fuck." you breathed out, lost in your own thoughts.
"Yeah." Dean said before looking over at you, noticing that you were no longer following along.
"This man, uh, did he seem to appear and disappear rapidly? It would look something like a mirage." Sam said, confusing Max.
"What are you, nuts?" Max asked, Sam tilting his head at the ironic question. "He was a passenger. He was sitting right in front of me." 
The Impala pulled up in front of a house, Dean looking at  you in the rearview mirror as he cut the engine, wondering why you had been so quiet.
"So, here we are, George Phelps, seat 2c." Sam said.
"Man, I don't care how strong you are." Dean said as the three of you got out of the car. "Even yoked up on PCP or something, no way you can open up an emergency door during a flight." Dean said.
"Not if you're human, but maybe this guy George was something else. Some kind of creature, maybe in human form." Sam said.
"Does that look like a creature's lair to you?" Dean asked Sam before turning to you. "Back me up, Singer." he said, you  just shrugging your shoulders as you walked to the door, both Sam and Dean looking after you in concern. 
The three of you were sitting around from Mrs. Phelps, Sam looking at a framed photograph, "This is your late husband?" Sam asked.
"Yes, that was my George." she replied.
"And he was a...dentist?" Dean asked.
"Mmm hmm. He was headed to a convention in Denver. Do you know that he was petrified to fly? For him to go like that..." she trailed off.
"How long were you married?" Sam asked, trying to regain her focus.
"Thirteen years." she answered.
"In all that time, did you ever notice anything strange about him, anything out of the ordinary?" Sam asked.
"What about his eyes? Did they ever look funny to you? Black, maybe?" you blurted out, not able to keep the question to yourself.
"No, his eyes were...fine, never black. He, uh, he had acid reflux, though. If that's what you mean?" she said, looking from you to Sam. 
The three of you were coming down the stairs out front, you in the lead.
"I mean, it goes without saying. It just doesn't make any sense." Sam said.
"A middle aged dentist with an ulcer is not exactly evil personified." Dean said to Sam before calling out to you, "What's going on with you, Singer?" he asked.
"Nothing." you said, not looking at him.
"Hey." he said, grabbing your arm to stop you, "Come on, something is up with you. You've been weird since we talked to Jaffey, so what's going on with you?" he asked, holding onto you so you couldn't walk away.
"I'm just trying to figure out what's going on. That's it. I'm fine." you said, knowing that he didn't fully believe you.
"You know what we need to do, is get inside that NTSB warehouse, check out the wreckage." Dean said.
"Okay, but if we're going go that route, we'd better look the part." Sam said, looking between you and Dean. 
You were leaning against the car, feeling completely out of your comfort zone in your new wardrobe. The black pencil skirt, crisp white shirt, and black fitted blazer weren't something you could ever see yourself wearing voluntarily. The heels were the only thing you felt slightly comfortable in, wearing them to hit the bars whenever you had a night off.
You crossed your arms over your chest, waiting on Sam and Dean to come out of the store they were in. You finally spotted them walking out, each of them wearing a new black suit with a white shirt. You smiled to yourself, thinking how good both of them looked.
"Man, I look like one of the Blues Brothers." Dean said.
"No, you don't. You look more like a seventh grader at his first dance." Sam teased.
"Hey, I look like a secretary from some cheesy porno." you said, twisting your hair up into a bun.
"I think you look really nice, Y/N." Sam said, smiling at you.
"Thanks, Sam. You look really good, too." you said, before looking over to Dean to get his opinion.
"A secretary, huh? Maybe, I can see you in my office later." he said, smirking at you.
You chuckled, "Real funny. Maybe, I'll just come chaperone your dance instead." you said.
Dean shook his head before looking down at himself, "I hate this thing." he said.
"Me too." you said, adjusting your skirt.
"Hey, you guys want into that warehouse or not?" Sam asked. 
The three of you walked into the warehouse each of you flashing your badge to the security guard, who nodded and let you in.
You started to walk among the wreckage, Dean reaching into his pocket to pull out a device before placing earbuds in his ears.
"What is that?" Sam asked, eyeing the device.
"It's an EMF meter, reads electromagnetic frequencies." Dean replied.
"Come on, Sam, I know you aren't that rusty." you teased, glancing over at him.
"I know what an EMF meter is, but why does that one look like a busted up Walkman?" Sam asked.
"Cause that's what I made it out of. It's homemade." Dean proudly said, grinning.
"Yeah, I can see that." Sam said, unimpressed, Dean's grin fading.
You walked over to him, "Hey, I think it's fuckin' awesome. You did a good job." you said, as he ran the meter over a piece of wreckage.
"Check out the emergency door handle." Dean said, before scratching off some yellow dust, getting some on his hand. "What is this stuff?" he asked.
You shook your head, despite having a pretty good idea what it was. You didn't want to say anything until you were completely sure that you were right, thinking there was no need to cause a fuss. Especially if you were wrong in the end.
"One way to find out." Sam said, scraping some of the yellow dust into a bag.
"Shh...listen." you said, the sounds of several footsteps echoing, "Yeah, we need to go like fuckin' now." you added, the three of you quickly making an exit. 
Sam and Dean peered around the corner, checking to make sure the coast was clear, while you pulled off your heels, unable to run in them. The three of you walked casually around the corner, until an alarm started to blare, kicking all of you into high gear.
Dean took off his suit jacket and tossed it over the barbed wire at the top of the fence, Sam climbing over without a problem.
Dean started to climb over, but stopped when you didn't follow, "Sometime today would be nice, Y/N." he said, looking over his shoulder at you.
"I can't climb over in this fuckin' skirt." you said, tossing your heels over the fence. "It's so tight I can barely take a decent step."
"You better hike that thing up, or do whatever you need to do, but you better get your ass over that fence...NOW." Dean said.
"Just don't look." you said, pulling the skirt up until it bunched around your waist, checking to make sure Dean wasn't looking. "I'm serious, Dean. Close your fuckin' eyes. You too, Sam!" you said, preparing to climb over the fence.
"You commando or something?" Dean asked, managing to keep his focus on your face.
"We were supposed to go to a laundry mat, but then Jerry called, and we've been too busy." you said as you climbed the fence, quickly throwing your leg over and making your way down the other side, yanking your skirt down before picking up your heels.
"Well, these monkey suits do come in handy." Dean said, as he landed on the other side of the fence. "Hey, Singer, I think I got a nickel in my pocket. How much you want bet I can bounce it off-" Dean got out before you took off after him.
"I'm going to fuckin' kill you." you seethed, chasing after him. 
The three of you were standing inside of Jerry's office. Sam had given him the yellow substance he had collected at the scene and Jerry was now looking at it under a microscope.
"Huh. This stuff is covered in-" Jerry started to say.
"Sulfur." you finished for him, all three of them looking at you.
"Sulfur." Jerry said, still looking at you.
"How did you know that?" Dean asked.
"Lucky guess." you said, shrugging your shoulders.
"You're sure?" Sam asked Jerry.
"Take a look for yourself." Jerry said, loud banging sounds from outside catching his attention. "If you guys will excuse me. I have an idiot to fire." Jerry said before excusing himself from his office, leaving you, Sam, and Dean behind.
Dean took a look through the microscope for himself, "Hmmm. You know, there's not too many things that leave behind a sulfuric residue." he said to Sam before turning to you, "You want to tell us how you really knew that?"
You sighed, "I had a feeling, ok. I mean, with what Max Jaffey said about the guys eyes, and his strength, then the sulfur.  I mean, add it all up and it most likely points to one thing." you said.
"Demonic possession?" Sam asked, you nodding your head.
"It would explain how a mortal man would have the strength to open up an emergency hatch." Dean said, looking to  you for your opinion.
"If the guy was possessed, it's possible." Sam answered, instead.
"This goes way beyond floating over a bed or barfing pea soup. I mean, it's one thing to possess a person, but to use them to take down an entire plane?" Dean asked, you keeping quiet.
"You ever heard of something like this before?" Sam asked.
"Never." Dean said before turning to you. "You got anything else you want to share with the class, Singer? Any feelings or lucky guesses?" he asked, and you could tell that he was upset that you didn't speak up earlier.
"Dean, I didn't know fore sure, and I thought it was pointless to throw it out there until I knew." you said, a little defensively.
"How...how did you know?" Sam asked.
"Come on, guys. You know my dad. I was flipping through lore books before I could even read, and when I wanted to learn he taught me. It's basically an evil asshole encyclopedia up here." you said, tapping your temple. "Plus, I've worked a couple of possessions with dad, but this isn't a run of the mill possession, so...I'm not a hundred percent sure exactly what we are dealing with, but a demon of some sort is probably behind it." 
The three of you were in the motel, all busy researching after you told them everything you knew on the subject.
"So, every religion in every world culture has the concept of demons and demonic possession, right?" Sam asked, looking up from his computer.
"Yeah, Christian, Native American, Hindu, you name it." you said, looking up from the book you were reading.
"Yeah, but none of them describe anything like this." Dean said.
"Well, that's not exactly true." you started before Sam jumped in.
"According to Japanese beliefs, certain demons are behind certain disasters, both natural and manmade. One causes earthquakes, another causes disease." Sam said, looking between you and Dean.
"And this one causes plane crashes?" Dean asked, standing up from his spot on the bed. "All right, so, what? We have a demon that's evolved with the times and found a way to ratchet up the body count?" he asked.
"Yeah, you know, who know how many planes it's brought down before this one?" Sam asked.
You closed your book, "Well, death and destruction is kind of their gig." you said, Dean snorting as he turned away.
"What?" Sam asked.
"I don't know, guys. This isn't our normal gig. I mean, like Y/N said, demons, they don't want anything, just death and destruction for its own sake. This is big, and I wish Dad was here." Dean said, obviously stressed.
"Yeah, me too. "Sam said.
"All right, boys, I know we are kinda up shit's creek without a paddle right now, but we all need to put on our fuckin' big girl panties and figure this shit out because I don't think this asshole is done fucking shit up." you said.
"This coming from the person who certainly wasn't wearing her big girl panties today, or any panties if I remember correctly." Dean said, his phone ringing before you could reply.
"Hello." he said, you and Sam both looking at him, only able to hear Dean's side of the conversation. "Oh, hey, Jerry." Dean said, a sick feeling over taking you. "Wha-Jerry...I'm sorry. What happened?" Dean asked.
You and Sam listened to the rest of the one sided conversation, "Another crash?" Sam asked.
"Yeah. Let's go." Dean replied.
"Guess, I was right about it not being done." you said, grabbing  your jacket.
"Where?" Sam asked.
"Nazareth." Dean answered.
"And there's the fuckin' irony." you breathed out. 
Jerry was looking through the microscope again, even though the three of you knew what the substance was.
"Sulfur?" Dean asked, Jerry nodding his head. "Well, that's great. All right, that's two plane crashes involving Chuck Lambert. This demon sounds like it was after him." Dean said.
"With all due respect to Chuck, if that's the case, that would be the good news." Sam said.
"Yeah, I wouldn't count on that. I don't think the asshole is done." you said.
"What's the bad news?" Dean asked.
"Chuck's plane went down exactly forty minutes into flight, and get this, so did flight 2485." Sam said.
"And you're sure it was forty minutes for both?" you asked.
"Forty minutes? What does that mean?" Jerry asked.
"It's biblical numerology." you replied.
"You know, Noah's ark, it rained for forty days. The number means death." Dean said, going in to more detail.
"I went back and there have been six plane crashes over the last decade that all went down exactly forty minutes in." Sam said.
"Any survivors?" Dean asked.
"No, or not until now, at least, not until flight 2485, for some reason.  On the cockpit voice recorder, remember what the EVP said?" Sam asked, you nodding your head.
"No survivors." Dean said before pausing for a moment to think, "It's going after all the survivors."
"Fuck, it's trying to finish the job." you said, shaking your head. 
Dean was driving while Sam was finishing up a phone call. You were in the backseat flipping through John's journal.
"Really, well, thank you for taking our survey, and if you do plan to fly, please don't forget your friends at United Britannia Airlines. Thanks." Sam said before hanging up. "All right, that takes care of Blaine Sanderson and Dennis Holloway. They're not flying anytime soon." he said.
"So, our only wildcard is the flight attendant, Amanda Walker?" Dean asked.
"Right. Her sister Karen said her flight leaves Indianapolis at eight pm. It's her first night back on the job." Sam said.
"Indianapolis, really?" you asked, closing the journal. "I really don't know why I'm surprised." you added.
Dean nodded his head, "That sounds like just our luck." he said.
"Dean, this is a five hour drive, man, even with you behind the wheel." Sam said.
"Call Amanda's cell phone again. See if we can't head her off at the pass." Dean said.
"I already left her three voice messages. She must have turned her cellphone off. God, we're never gonna make it." Sam said.
"We'll make it." Dean said, pushing down on the accelerator, determined to make it in time.
Sam looked over his shoulder at you, "Hold on tight, Sam." you said. 
The three of you rushed into the airport and checked the departure board, relieved to see that you had made it in time.
"Right there. They're boarding in thirty minutes." Sam said, pointing to the board.
"Okay. We still have some cards to play. We need to find a phone." Dean said, spotting a courtesy phone.
"Airport services." the person on the other end said.
"Hi, gate thirteen." Dean said.
"Who are you calling, sir?" they asked.
"I'm trying to contact an Amanda Walker. She's a flight attendant on flight, uh, flight 424." Dean said.
"Amanda Walker. Amanda Walker, you have a phone call. White courtesy phone, gate thirteen." the PA voice announced.
"Come on." Dean said, growing impatient.
"This is Amanda Walker." she said.
"Miss Walker. Hi, this is Dr. James Hetfield from St. Francis Memorial Hospital. We have a Karen Walker here." Dean said, you and Sam standing back watching.
"Karen?" Amanda asked.
"Nothing serious, just a minor car accident, but she was injured, so-" Dean got out before Amanda interrupted.
"Wh-what? That's impossible. I just got off the phone with her." she said.
Dean paused for a moment, "You what?" he asked.
"Five minutes ago. She's at her house, cramming for a final. Who is this?" Amanda asked.
"Uh, well...there must be some mistake." Dean said.
"And how would you even know I was here?" Amanda asked, you and Sam trying to stand close enough to Dean to hear what was going on. "Is this one of Vince's friends?"
"Guilty as charged." Dean said, shrugging his shoulders and just going along with her.
"Wow. This is unbelievable." Amanda said.
You looked up at Dean and mouthed, "Say he's sorry."
"He's really sorry." Dean said, following your lead.
"Well, you tell him to mind his own business and stay out of my life, okay?" Amanda ordered.
"He's a mess." you mouthed.
"Don't be like that. Come on, the guy's a mess. Really. it's pathetic." Dean said.
"Really?" Amanda asked, you furiously nodding your head.
"Oh, yeah." Dean said.
"Look, I've got to go. Umm...tell him to call me when I land." she said before hanging up.
"No, no. Wait, Amanda. Amanda!" Dean said.
"Fuck." you shouted, a little louder than you meant to, drawing a few stares.
"Damn it! So close." Dean said.
"Well, I guess we have one option left." you said.
Sam nodded his head, "It's time for plan B. We're getting on that plane." he said.
"Yep." you said.
"Whoa, whoa, now just hold on a second." Dean said, wide eyed.
"We don't really have a second, De. We need to haul ass." you said.
"Dean, that plane is leaving with over a hundred passengers on board, and if we're right, that plane is gonna crash." Sam said.
"I know." Dean said.
"Okay, so, we're getting on the plane. We need to find that demon and exorcise it. I'll get the tickets. You and Y/N get whatever will make it through security. Meet me back here in five minutes." Sam said, laying out a game plan.
You nodded your head, and grabbed Dean's arm, ready to pull him back to the car, "Hey, come on. It's gonna be ok." you said, as he stood in one spot looking between you and Sam anxiously.
"Are you okay?" Sam asked.
"No, not really." Dean said.
"What?" What's wrong?" Sam asked.
"Well, I kind of have this problem with, uh..." Dean trailed off.
"Flying." you finished for him before looking over to Sam. "He's scared to fly."
"It's never been a problem until now." Dean said.
"You're joking, right?" Sam asked.
You shook your head, "He's not." you said.
"Do I look like I'm joking? Why do you think I drive everywhere, Sam?" Dean asked.
"All right, uh, Y/N and I'll go." Sam said.
"Ok, I'll go get what we need and I'll meet you back here. We need to get this show on the road." you said, turning to walk away.
"What?" Dean asked.
"We'll do this one on our own." Sam said.
"We'll be fine, De. Don't worry." you said.
"Don't worry? What are you guys, nuts? You said it yourself, the plane is gonna crash." Dean said, looking between the two of  you.
"What else do you want us to do?" you asked.
Sam nodded his head, "Dean, we can do it all together, or Y/N and I can do this one ourselves. I'm not seeing a third option here." Sam said.
"Come on! Really? Fuck." Dean said. 
"Flight attendants please cross check doors before departure." the voice over the intercom said.
Dean was in the aisle seat, anxiously reading the safety card while you sat next to him, Sam on the other side of you.
"Just try to relax." Sam said, taking note of how nervous Dean was.
"Just try to shut up." Dean snapped, the plane taking off, Dean jumping at every rumble and sound.
You grabbed his hand and laced your fingers with his, "You're fine." you said, Dean squeezing your hand tightly as you started to hum, laying your head on his shoulder.
"You're humming Metallica?" Sam asked.
"It calms him down." you said, resuming your humming after speaking.
"Dude, did you just sniff her head?" Sam asked.
"W-what? No, that's crazy. I-I was just trying to take a deep breath. You know, relax." Dean lied, a smile coming to your face.
He had let it slip once when he was drunk that he loved the smell of your shampoo. He said it always calmed him down, so you would often lay your head on his shoulder when he was stressed, giving him the opportunity to breathe you in, never mentioning to him that you knew what he was doing.
"Look, man, I get you're nervous, all right? You got to say focused." Sam said.
"Okay." Dean replied.
"I mean, we got thirty two minutes and counting to track this thing down, or whoever it's possessing, anyway, and perform a full on exorcism." Sam said.
"No pressure, huh?" you breathed out, feeling a little nervous that there wasn't going to be enough time.
"Yeah, on a crowded plane. That's gonna be easy." Dean said, still holding onto your hand.
"Let's just take it one step at a time, all right? Now, who is it possessing?" Sam asked.
"Well, usually they go for someone with some sort of weakness. They can worm their way in like that." you said.
"Ok, so somebody with an addiction or some sort of emotional distress." Dean said.
"Yet, another reason for you to try to chill the fuck out. I really don't want this thing jumpin' into you." you said, Dean nodding his head.
"Well, this is Amanda's first flight after the crash. If I were her I'd be pretty messed up." Sam said.
"Yeah, that's true." you said, Dean humming in agreement.
"Excuse me, are you Amanda?" Dean asked the flight attendant next to him.
"No, I'm not." She answered.
"Oh, my mistake." he said, the flight attendant walking away, Dean looking to the back of the plane, "All right, well, that's got to be Amanda back there, so I'll go talk to her, and I, uh, I'll get a read on her mental state." Dean said.
"You sure? I can do it." you said, worried about him.
"I can do it. I...I need to move around." he said, finally releasing your hand.
"What if she's already possessed?" Sam asked.
"There's ways to test that." Dean said, pulling out a bottle of holy water, "I brought holy water."
"Yeah, let's not do that just yet." you said, taking the bottle from him and passing it to Sam.
"I think we can go more subtle. If she's possessed she'll flinch at the name of God." Sam said.
"Oh, nice." Dean said, turning to go to the back.
"Hey." you said, stopping him.
"What?" he asked.
"Say it in Latin." you said.
"I know." Dean said, a little annoyed.
"Hey!" Sam called out.
"What?!" Dean snapped.
"Uh, in Latin, it's Christo." Sam said.
"Guys, I know! I'm not an idiot!" Dean said before making his way to the back of the plane.
You turned in your seat, watching him walk away, "Maybe I should go with him, back him up." you said, starting to rise from your seat.
Sam put his hand on your shoulder, "He can do it." he said, "We need to go over the rest of the plan."
"Fine." you sighed, taking one last look at Dean before turning your attention to Sam, "You got John's journal?" you asked.
"Yeah, here.” Sam said, passing it over to you.  
You flipped through the pages until you found what you were looking for, "I'm thinking this should work." you said, passing it back to Sam.
"You think?" Sam asked.
"Sorry, I'm not a fuckin' expert, Sam." you snapped, immediately regretting it, "Sorry, I...demons just weird me out. They...I just really fuckin' hate em', and I want to get this shit done." you said, Dean sitting down next to you before Sam could reply.
"All right, well, she's got to be the most well adjusted person on the planet." Dean said.
"Good for her." you sarcastically said. 
"You said Christo?" Sam asked.
"Yeah." Dean replied.
"And?" Sam asked, needing more details.
"There's no demon in her. There's no demon getting in her." Dean replied.
"So, if it's on the plane it can be anyone, anywhere." Sam said, the plane shaking.
"Come on! That can't be normal!" Dean shouted, gripping onto your arm.
"Hey, hey, it's just a little turbulence." Sam said.
"Yeah, it's okay." you said, prying his fingers from your arm.
"Guys, this plane is going to crash, okay? So, quit treating me like I'm fucking four." Dean said.
"Well, stop acting like  you're fucking four." you said.
"Yeah, you need to calm down." Sam said.
"Well, I'm sorry. I can't." Dean said, reaching for your hand.
"Yes, you can." Sam said.
"Dude, stow the touchy feely, self help yoga crap. It's not helping." Dean said.
"Listen, if you're panicked, you're wide open to demonic possession, so you need to calm yourself down, right now." Sam warned.
"Fuck, he's right, Dean, just breath or something." you said.
"Yeah, cause that has helped me. I've been breathing this whole fuckin' time in case you hadn't noticed." Dean sassed.
"God damn it." you said under your breath before turning in your seat to face him, "You owe me."
"For what?" Dean asked, confused.
"For the drastic measures I'm about to take to save your ass." you said, grabbing his shirt and pulling him to you, crashing your lips to his.
You felt him tense up for a moment, his lips not moving as if he were in a state of shock. You started to pull back, thinking that you may have crossed a line, but before you could pull away you felt his hand on the back of your neck, holding you in place.
The kiss quickly started to heat up, Dean's tongue running along your bottom lip, begging for entrance. You opened your mouth, Dean wasting no time deepening the kiss.
Sam cleared his throat loudly, "Guys." he said.
You pulled away from Dean, "Sorry, Sam." you said, before focusing your attention on Dean. "You good now? You calm?" you asked.
Dean took a long, slow breath, "I'm so fuckin' good." he said, his words coming out a little breathy.
You tapped his cheek a couple of times, "You're welcome." you said.
Sam cleared his throat again, "Good. Now, we found an exorcism in here that we think will work. The Rituale Romanum." Sam said to Dean.
"What do we have to do?" Dean asked.
"Well...it's two parts." you started, Sam jumping in to say the rest.
"The first part expels the demon from the victim's body. It makes it manifest which actually makes it more powerful." Sam explained.
"More powerful?" Dean asked.
"Yep." you said, popping the p.
"How?" Dean asked.
"Well, it doesn't need to possess someone anymore. It can just wreak havoc on its own." Sam said.
"Oh, and why is that a good thing?" Dean asked.
"Well, cause the second part sends that fucker back to hell once and for all." you said.
Dean nodded his head, "First things first, we got to find it." Dean said before standing up to walk the aisle with his EMF meter, getting odd looks, but no readings.
You and Sam walked up behind him, you clapping him on the shoulder causing him to jump, "Ah! Don't do that." Dean scolded.
"Sorry." you said.
"Anything?" Sam asked.
"No, nothing. How much time do we got?" Dean asked.
"Fifteen minutes. Maybe, we missed somebody." you said, looking around at the other passengers.
"Maybe the things just not on the plane." Dean said, causing you to scoff.
"You believe that?" Sam asked.
"Well, I will if you guys will." Dean said, looking down as the EMF meter spiked, the copilot exiting the bathroom and heading towards the cockpit.
"Christo." you blurted out, the copilot slowly turning to face you, his eyes black, "Fuck." you whispered as he went into the cockpit. 
The three of you headed to the back of the plane towards Amanda.
"She's not gonna believe this." Sam said.
"We don't really have a choice, Sam." you said.
"Yeah, twelve minutes, dude." Dean said.
"Oh, hi, flight's not too bumpy for you, I hope." Amanda said to Dean.
"Actually, that's kind of what we need to talk to you about." Dean said, Sam closing the curtain behind you.
"Um, okay. What can I do for you?" Amanda asked.
"All right, this is gonna sound nuts, but we just don't have the time for the whole truth is out there speech right now." Dean said.
"Look, we just really need you to listen to us right now, and for you to keep an open mind." you added.
"All right, look, we know you were on flight 2485." Sam said, the friendly smile Amanda had disappearing.
"Who are you guys?" she asked.
"That's not important right now." you said.
"Now, we've spoken to some of the other survivors. We know something brought down that plane and it wasn't a mechanical failure." Sam said.
"We need your help because we need to stop it form happening again, here. Now." Dean said.
"I'm sorry, I-I'm very busy. I have to go back-" she said as she tried to brush past Dean, who stopped her.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, wait a second. I'm not gonna hurt you, okay? Listen to me. Uh...the pilot on 2485, Chuck Lambert. He's dead." Dean said.
"Wait, what? Chuck is dead?" she asked.
"He died in a plane crash. Now, that's two plane crashes in two months. That doesn't strike you as a little fuckin' strange?" you asked.
"Look, there was something wrong with 2485. Now, maybe you sensed it, maybe you didn't, but there's something wrong with this flight, too." Sam said.
"Amanda you have to believe us." Dean said.
"On...on 2485, there was this man. He...had these eyes." Amanda said.
"Black eyes?" you asked, Amanda nodding her head.
"Yes. That's exactly what we're talking about." Sam said.
"I don't understand. What are you asking me to do?" Amanda asked.
"Okay. The copilot, we need you to bring him back here." Dean said.
"Why? What does he have to do with anything?" Amanda asked.
"Oh, come on, lady." you said, frustrated.
"Don't have time to explain. We just need to talk to him, okay?" Dean said.
"How am I supposed to go in the cockpit and get the copilot?" she asked.
"Do whatever it takes. Tell him there's something broken back here, whatever will get him out of that cockpit." Sam said.
"Do you know that I could lose my job if you-" she started to say before you interrupted.
"Jesus Christ, lady! You're job is the last thing you should be worrying about." you said, your patience for her gone.
"Look, you're gonna lose a lot more if you don't help us out." Dean said.
Amanda hesitated for a moment, "Okay." she said, leaving and making her way to the cockpit. 
"All right, boys. Here they come." you said, Sam pulling out the holy water, and Dean passing over John's journal to him.
"Yeah, what's the problem?" the copilot asked.
Dean punched him in the face, and knocked him down. The two of you pinned him down, you holding his legs down while Dean managed to put duct tape over his mouth.
"Wait? What are you doing? You said you were just gonna talk to him." Amanda said.
"Relax lady." you said, struggling to keep the copilot still.
"We are gonna talk to him." Dean said, splashing holy water on him, his skin sizzling.
"Oh, my God. What's wrong with him?" she asked.
"Get her the fuck out of here, Sam." you snapped.
"Look, we need you calm. We need you outside the curtain." Sam said.
"Well, I don't underst- I don't know." she stammered out.
"Don't let anybody in, okay? Can you do that? Can you do that, Amanda?" Sam asked.
"Okay. Okay." she said before leaving. 
"Hurry up, Sam. I don't know how much longer we can hold him." Dean said.
"Regna terrae, Cantate Deo, psalute Domino-" Sam said, stopping when the demon broke free, hitting both boys until you and Dean managed to subdue him again.
Sam picked up where he left off, until the demon knocked both you and Dean off again and pulled the tape from his mouth, reaching to grab Sam by the collar.
"I know what happened to your girlfriend. She must have died screaming. Even now, she's burning." the demon said before turning to you, "And you, oh, we have plans for you." he said, Dean recovering and hitting the demon.
"Sam!" you and Dean shouted, you now trying to help Dean hold him down.
Sam recovered and began reading again. He put the book down, and helped the two of you pin down the demon, who kicked the book up the aisle.
"I got him." Sam said, the demon exiting the copilot's body and disappearing into a vent.
"Where'd it go?" Sam asked.
"It's in the plane." Dean said.
"Fuck, boys. We gotta hurry up and finish this. We're running out of time." you said.
The plane suddenly dipped and heaved violently, Sam struggling to retrieve the book as Dean splayed himself against the exit door, screaming, while you were pressed to his chest, his arms coming to wrap around you.
Sam managed to grab the book and read the rest of the exorcism, a bright electrical charge running through the entire plane when he finished, the plane leveling out soon after.
Dean was breathing heavily, holding onto you so tight that you could hardly breathe, "De...I...can't breathe." you said, Dean loosening his hold a little. 
The passengers from the flight were disembarking to an area, milling with uniformed agents, paramedics, FBI, FAA, and so on. The copilot was seated in a wheelchair, a blanket wrapped around him, being questioned by an FAA agent.
Amanda spotted the three of you across the way and mouthed thank you, the three of you nodding at her.
"Let's get out of here." Dean said, as the three of you headed to the exit. "You okay?" he asked Sam.
"Dean, it knew about Jessica, and it said they had plans for Y/N." Sam said.
"Sam, these things, they...they read minds. They lie, all right. That's all it was." Dean said.
"He's right, Sam. Those assholes will say whatever they can to get inside your head. They just like fuckin' with people." you said, not revealing that you were scared about what it had said about you.
"Yeah." Sam said.
"Come on." Dean said, urging you and Sam to follow. 
"Nobody knows what you guys did, but I do. A lot of people could have been killed." Jerry said, shaking each of your hands. "Your dad's gonna be real proud. Yours too, Y/N." he said.
"We'll see you around, Jerry." Sam said.
"Maybe wait a little while before the next call." you teased.
"You know, Jerry." Dean said.
"Yeah." Jerry replied.
"I meant to ask you, how did you get my cellphone number, anyway? I've only had it for like six months." Dean said.
"Your dad gave it to me." Jerry said.
"What?" you and Sam asked in unison.
"You talked to John?" you asked.
"When did you talk to him?" Dean asked before Jerry could answer you.
"I mean, I didn't exactly talk to him, but I called his number. His voice message said to give you or Y/N a call. Thanks again, guys." Jerry said before walking away. 
"This doesn't make any sense, guys. I've called Dad's number like fifty times. It's been out of service." Sam said, as Dean dialed John's number, all of you crowding around the phone to listen.
"This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If this is an emergency call my son, Dean (785) 555-0179 or Y/N Singer (785) 555-0726. They can help." John said.
Sam was fuming as he got into the car, you and Dean both looking after him.
"What the fuck in going on, De?" you asked.
"I wish I knew, Sweetheart." he said, as the two of you got into the car, hoping that the next case would provide some much needed answers. 
Tags: @22sarah08​ @miraclesoflove​
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winchesterbrotherstan · 5 years ago
Text
Supernatural- Phantom Traveler (1.04)
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Pairing: N/A, Olive Winchester (OC)
Summary: A demon haunts a plane, Olive and Sam keep having nightmares, the siblings pull off something big, and Dean spits in Death’s face (no not literally)
Warnings: Demons, mentions of plane crashes, screaming, cursing, exorcisms, etc
Word Count: 8391
Dean, Sammy, Dad. All dead. All torn to pieces. Dad, hung up by his neck. Sammy, head thrown backwards, mouth open, nose broken, blood spilling. Dean the worst, wide green eyes such sharp contrast to the red blood speckling his face, overtaking his freckles. I whimpered, feeling his face. He was still warm, so warm. I hadn’t been fast enough, the spirit got to them because I hadn’t been fast enough. It hurt to see them, but Dean was the worst. He had raised me, and now he was dead.
 We had been hunting a spirit that targeted men, especially men with young daughters and younger sisters. It was running rampant, and as much as it was a danger to us, we had to stop it. I felt a cold breath on the back of my neck, and I opened my mouth to scream. A hand slipped in, gripping my tongue and pulling it away, ripping it off. I screamed, but gurgling blood was the only thing that slipped out. Dean’s head twitched, and he looked right at me.
“You aren’t good enough. Face it, kid. You just got us killed.”
I tried to scream again, but this time I could feel my tongue in my mouth. I sat up and sobbed, looking down to my side. Dean was peacefully asleep on his stomach, one arm thrown protectively around me. I struggled to breathe, still crying. The nightmare was jarring, and I felt like I was going to be sick. I felt a hand on my shoulder and I screamed, startled. A hand clapped over my mouth and I was pulled into someone’s grasp. Dean didn’t seem to notice, snoring, unbothered.
“It’s just me!”
I sobbed again, realizing it was Sam. I snuggled into him, wrapping my arms around his torso and squeezing. Sam grunted as he lifted me, trying to get me balanced in his lap. I whimpered again, and he hugged me tighter.
“Shh. You’re okay, bug. You’re okay. I promise. I’ve got you. You’re safe.” Sam ran a hand along my back as I tried to calm my breathing.
“I-i-it it was y-y-you an-and Dad, and De-” I cut off, another sob spilling from my lips as I closed my eyes and saw my oldest brother behind my eyelids, dead.
“He’s okay. I’m okay. Dad’s okay. We’ll find him. We’re right here. We’re not going anywhere.” He whispered.
I sat myself up, looking at Sam’s face. He smiled at me, wiping away my tears and kissing my forehead. I sniffled and rubbed my eyes. I looked over my shoulder at Dean. He was still on his stomach, but was no longer snoring. I caught sight of the red alarm clock on the nightstand. 2:45 AM. I rubbed my eyes again.
“I’m sorry, Sam. Didn’t mean to wake you up.” I whispered, crashing back into his chest.
Sam shook his head. “It’s okay, I was already awake.”
I sat up. “Why?”
He shrugged. “Nightmares keep me up too.”
I threw my arms around his neck and hugged him. “M’sorry, Sams.”
He only wrapped an arm around my waist and kissed my head again. “It’s okay, bug. Do you wanna talk about it?”
I shook my head. “Don’t wanna think about it.” I whined, sounding like a four year old.
He shushed me, trying to soothe me. “It’s okay. That’s okay.”
I finally stopped crying and calmed my breathing down. He rocked me back and forth, trying to get me back to sleep.
“Sammy?” I kept my head tucked under his chin.
“What is it, bug?”
“Can I stay in your bed? Please?”
“Of course you can, bug. C’mere.” He moved backward, pushing the sheets out of the way.
I crawled off his lap and laid down on the side closest to Dean, on my stomach, reaching out for his hand. I barely reached his pinky, hooking my pointer finger around it. I let out a deep breath and closed my eyes. I felt Sam shift next to me, then pull the blankets up to my shoulders. I heard the hum of the TV, then Sam’s fingers in my hair. I was lulled to sleep, feeling Dean scoot close enough to hold my hand in his.
                                                         ***
My eyes opened before my brain turned back on, and I saw Dean sleeping on his stomach, now on the edge of the bed, hand clutching mine. I yawned against the pillow, then turned my head away. I felt Sam’s absence before I noticed it, hand reaching out, only to pat an empty bed. The door opened, and I heard Sam’s heavy footsteps. I relaxed once more, closing my eyes again. Dean groaned, and his hand gripped mine before he sighed, letting me go.
“Morning, sunshine.” Sam scoffed, and I could tell it was directed at Dean.
“What time is it?” He groaned again.
“Uh, it's about 5:45.” Sam noted, placing things down on the edge of the bed, moving my feet aside.
“In the morning?” Dean hissed.
“Yep.”
I heard the springs in Dean’s bed screech. “Did you get any sleep last night?”
“Yeah, I grabbed a couple hours.” Sam sat by me, hand rubbing my back.
“Liar.” Dean scoffed. “Because I was up at three, and Olive was asleep in your bed, and you were watching a George Foreman infomercial.”
Sam’s hand stopped, and then he sighed. “Hey, what can I say? It's riveting TV.”
“When was the last time you got a good night's sleep?” Dean was disgruntled.
“I don't know, a little while, I guess. It's not a big deal.” Sam’s hand came to my hair, and I shifted a little.
“Yeah, it is.”
“Look, I appreciate your concern-”
“Oh, I'm not concerned about you. It's your job to keep my ass alive, so I need you sharp.” Dean sassed.
I yawned, but when I heard Dean begin to speak again, I let my head flop back onto the pillow. Sam shrugged again.
“Seriously, are you still having nightmares about Jess?”
Sam kissed the top of my head before getting up. I groaned and rolled over onto my back. Dean snorted at me, coming to sit by my side. He pushed my hair out of my face, stroking my cheek.
“Yeah. But it's not just her. It's everything. I just forgot, you know? This job. man, it gets to you.” Sam paused. “She woke up last night, crying.”
I could feel Dean staring at me, and his finger came back across my nose. It tickled, and I moved away with a groan.
“You can't let it. You can't bring it home like that.” Dean’s voice was a whisper, and I knew he meant it more for me than for Sam.
“So, what? All this it… never keeps you up at night?” Sam asked.
There was a pause, and Dean pulled my nose between his thumb and pointer finger. I pushed him away, then sat up, kicking the sheets off. I crawled into his lap and dropped my head against his neck.
“Never? You're never afraid?” Sam asked.
“No, not really.” Dean rubbed my back, the other hand in my hair.
Sam scoffed, and I looked over my shoulder to see him pull the hunting knife from under Dean’s pillow. Dean leaned forward and snatched it back, placing it on the nightstand.
“That’s not fear. That is precaution.”
Sam raised an eyebrow. “Precaution? Olive woke up screaming, and you heard nothing.”
“I heard her. But I saw that you had her, didn’t wanna steal your moment.” Dean shrugged.
“Alright, whatever. I'm too tired to argue.” Sam pulled me from Dean’s lap, sitting me next to him, now on Dean’s bed.
I grumbled, but quickly lit up as Sam handed me a coffee and a brown bag. I looked inside to see a bagel. I smiled and popped up, kissing Sam’s cheek before digging into my breakfast. Dean put down his coffee as his phone rang. He flipped it open, setting it to speaker with a suspicious face.
“Hello?”
“Dean, it's, uh, it's Jerry Panowski. You and your dad helped me out a couple years back.”
Dean looked at me, eyebrows furrowed. I racked my brain, trying to remember what I had researched for a Jerry Panowski a few years ago. It clicked, and I pointed at Dean, mouth full of bagel.
“Poltergeist, Pennsylvania.” I mumbled.
Dean nodded. “Oh, right, yeah. Up in Kittanning, Pennsylvania, the poltergeist thing. It's not back, is it?”
“No. No. Thank god, no. But it's something else, and… uh, I think it could be a lot worse.”
“What is it?”
Jerry hesitated. “Can we talk in person?”
Dean looked at me, and I shrugged. He then looked to Sam, who looked back. I stuffed the rest of the bagel in my mouth and headed to the bathroom to change.
                                                        ***
“Thanks for making the trip so quick. I ought to be doing you guys a favor, not the other way around. Dean and your dad really helped me out.” Jerry spoke to Sam and I.
“Yeah, I heard. It was a poltergeist?”
“Poltergeist? Man, I loved that movie.” A worker passed by.
“Hey, nobody's talking to you. Keep walking.” Jerry hissed at the man. “Damn right it was a poltergeist, practically tore our house apart. Tell you something, if it wasn't for you and your dad, I probably wouldn't be alive.”
“Well, Olive did a lot of the research for that. She did that before she started hunts.” Dean cut in, hand on my shoulder.
Jerry nodded, impressed. “Nice, nice, thank you very much. Sam, your dad said you were off at college. Is that right?”
Sam tensed. “Yeah, I was. I'm… taking some time off.”
Jerry smiled. “Well, he was real proud of you. I could tell. He talked about you all the time.”
Sam looked up. “He did?”
Jerry nodded. “Yeah, you bet he did. Oh, hey, you know I tried to get a hold of him, but I couldn't. How's he doing, anyway?”
Dean tensed too. “He's, um, wrapped up in a job right now.”
“Well, we’re missing the old man but we get Sam and Olive. Even trade, huh?”
Dean laughed, ruffling my hair.
“No, not by a long shot.” Sam scoffed off.
I elbowed him. “Speak for yourself, I’m an even trade.” I laughed.
He smiled, pushing me by the forehead.
“Listen, I got something I want you guys to hear.” Jerry laughed at us, leading us to his office.
“I listened to this, and, well… it sounded like it was up your alley.” He held a CD in his hand, then popped it into the drive. “Normally I wouldn't have access to this. It's the cockpit voice recorder for United Britannia flight 2485. It was one of ours.”
The recording was staticky, and it gave me the creeps. Dean noticed, pulling me against him and wrapping his arms around me as we listened.
“Mayday! Mayday! Repeat! This is United Britannia 2485—immediate instruction help! United Britanis 2485, I copy your message—May be experiencing some mechanical failure…”
The recording ended with a loud whoosh, and I shivered.
“Took off from here, crashed about two hundred miles south. Now, they're saying mechanical failure. Cabin depressurized somehow. Nobody knows why. Over a hundred people on board. Only seven got out alive. Pilot was one. His name is Chuck Lambert. He's a good friend of mine. Chuck is, uh… well, he's pretty broken up about it. Like it was his fault.” Jerry frowned.
“You don’t think it was?” I looked up from Dean’s hold.
“No, I don't.” Jerry shook his head at me.
“Jerry, we're gonna need passenger manifests, um, a list of survivors.” Sam smiled politely.
Jerry nodded. “Alright.”
“And, uh… any way we could take a look at the wreckage?” Dean tried.
“The other stuff is no problem. But the wreckage… kids, the NTSB has it locked down in an evidence warehouse.” He shook his head again. “No way I’ve got that kind of clearance.”
Dean looked at me and pouted, thinking as he squinted. I smiled. We would figure it out. He nodded, then looked back up to Jerry with a smile.
“Won’t be a problem.”
                                                        ***
Sam and I were waiting outside a Copy Jack. A blonde girl walked in as Dean walked out, and he looked her up and down with a flirty grin.
“Hey.” She smiled.
“Hi.” He grinned.
“Dad! Hurry up, Mom’s waiting for us at home!” I called out to him, smiling from my perch on the hood of the car.
The woman made a face before ducking into the store. Dean came over and flicked my forehead.
“Ow!” I whined, squirming away.
“Aw, I’m sorry.” He rubbed my face with his entire hand.
“You've been in there forever.” Sam sighed.
Dean only held up three IDs, handing one to me and another to Sam.
“You can’t rush perfection.” Dean shrugged.
“Homeland Security?” I looked up with wide eyes.
“Homeland Security.” Sam echoed. “That’s pretty illegal, even for us.”
Dean held his arms out and gestured for me to get off the car. I crossed my arms over my chest and shook my head, squinting at him. Dean sighed but picked me up anyways, setting me on his hip as he walked around to the drivers side.
“Yeah, well, it's something new. You know? People haven't seen it a thousand times.” Dean set me down in the seat, and I inched to the middle, sighing as my brothers piled in next to me.
“Alright, so what do you two nerds got?”
“Well, there’s definitely EVP on the cockpit voice recorder.” I fished the tape from my pocket and handed it to Sam.
“Yeah?” Dean started the car.
“Listen.” Sam stuck it into the player.
“No survivors!” The voice hissed.
Dean looked confused. “No survivors? What's that supposed to mean? There were seven survivors.”
Sam shrugged. “Got me.”
“So, what are you thinking? Haunted flight?”
“Well, there is a long history of spirits and death omens on planes and ships, kinda like phantom travelers.” I explained.
Dean listened, but scoffed. “Nerd.”
“Or, remember Flight 401?” Sam asked.
Dean nodded. “Right. The one that crashed, the airline salvaged some of its parts, put it in other planes, then the spirit of the pilot and copilot haunted those flights.” Dean scratched his head.
“Right.” I nodded. “Maybe we’ve got a similar deal.”
“Alright, so, survivors, which one do you want to talk to first?” Dean leaned back, throwing an arm around the back of the seat.
“Third on the list, Max Jaffey.”
“Why?” Dean tilted his head.
“Well, one, he’s from around here. Two, if anyone saw anything… weird…” Sam and I shared a look. “It was him.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Well, I spoke to his mother.” I smiled.
“And she told her where to find him.” Sam finished.
                                                        ***
“I don’t understand. I already spoke with Homeland Security.” Jaffey shook his head, hobbling around on his cane.
“Right. Well, some new information has come up.” I spoke.
“So if you could just answer a couple questions…” Dean shrugged.
“Just before the plane went down, did you notice anything… unusual?” Sam asked.
“Like what?”
“Strange lights, weird noises, maybe. Voices?”
“No, nothing.” He shook his head.
“Mr. Joffey-”
“Jaffey.” It was a snarl.
“Right, Mr. Jaffey.” I stepped between him and Dean. “You checked yourself in here, right?” The only response I got was a nod. “Can we ask why?”
“I was a little stressed. I survived a plane crash.”
“Uh huh. And that's what terrified you? That's what you were afraid of?” Dean asked.
“I…” He looked from Dean to me, then Sam. “I don't want to talk about this anymore.”
“See, I think maybe you did see something up there. We need to know what.” Dean pressed.
“No. No, I was … I was delusional. Seeing things.” Jaffey shook his head.
“He was seeing things.” Dean repeated, looking at me.
I elbowed his side. “It’s okay. Just tell us what you saw. Please.” I coaxed.
“There was this… this man. And, uh, he had uh..” He moved his hands toward his eyes. “These eyes these, uh… black eyes. Entirely black. And I saw him… or I thought I saw him…”
“What?” Dean asked.
Jaffey said nothing, and I sighed.
“Mr. Jaffey, please. Anything you could tell us would help.”
“He opened the emergency exit. But that's… that's impossible, right? I mean, I looked it up. There's something like two tons of pressure on that door.” Jaffey shook his head.
“Yeah.” Dean nodded.
“This man, uh… did he seem to appear and disappear rapidly? It would look something like a mirage.” Sam asked, describing a spirit.
“What are you, nuts?” Jaffey scoffed.
Sam and I looked at each other and Dean raised his eyebrows.
“I… I’m sorry, what? What do you mean?”
Jaffey scoffed. “Are you guys sure you’re Homeland Security? I mean look at yourself. You look twelve.” He eyed me.
“Hey.” Dean’s voice was gruff, and he was done waiting around. “You’re not the one who’s asking the questions here. Answer her.”
“He was a passenger. He was sitting right in front of me.”
I looked up at Sam, and then over to Dean. He looked pale.
                                                        ***
“Here we are. George Phelps, seat 20C.” Sam looked up from his notepad.
“Hmm.” Dean squinted as he put the car in park and got out, pulling me with him. “Man, I don’t care how strong you are. Even yoked up on PCP or something, no way you can open up an emergency door during a flight.” Dean scoffed.
“Not if you’re human. But maybe this guy was something else. Maybe a skinwalker, a familiar. A shifter.” I listed the only things that came to mind.
“Some kind of creature, in human form.” Sam concluded.
“Does that look like a creature's lair to you?” Dean gestured to the ordinary house in front of us.
Sam and I looked at each other and sighed.
                                                        ***
“This is your late husband?” I asked, looking at the framed photo in Sam’s hand.
“Yes, that was my George.” Mrs. Phelps smiled sadly.
“And you said he was a… dentist?” Dean was trying his best to be polite.
“Mhm. He was headed to a convention in Denver. Do you know that he was petrified to fly? For him to go like that…” She sighed.
“How long were you married?” Sam asked.
“Thirteen years.”
“In all that time, did you ever notice anything… strange about him? Anything out of the ordinary?” I suggested.
“Well…” She thought, then perked up. “He had acid reflux, if that’s what you mean.”
The boys and I only looked at each other.
                                                        ***
“I mean it goes without saying. It just doesn't make any sense.” Sam sighed as we walked down the steps of the house.
“A middle-aged dentist with an ulcer is not exactly evil personified. You know what we need to do is get inside that NTSB warehouse, check out the wreckage.” Dean pressed.
“Okay.” Sam gave in. “But if we’re gonna go that route, we’d better look the part.”
Dean looked at me and scowled.
                                                        ***
Sam fixed his collar, then adjusted the tie around my neck. He smiled at me, smoothing my hair out and kissing the top of my head.
“Man, I look like one of the Blues Brothers.” Dean grunted, fixing his tie.
I shook my head as I looked at him and Sam laughed.
“No, you don't. You look more like a… seventh-grader at his first dance.”
Dean looked down at himself and groaned.
“I hate this thing.” He grumbled.
I laughed. “You look cute!”
He rolled his eyes at me and Sam laughed too. “Hey. You want into that warehouse or not?”
Dean glared at us as we climbed into the car. Dean flicked my head as he started the car.
                                                        ***
Dean flashed his badge first, followed by Sam’s and mine. The security guard eyed me, squinting.
“Trainee. Top of her class.” Sam stepped in front of me.
The security guard seemed to shrug to himself before letting us into the warehouse. The door slammed shut behind us, and Dean grinned, pulling out his EMF meter.
“What the fuck is that?” Sam asked as Dean popped an earbud in.
“It’s an EMF meter.” Dean eyed him. “Reads electromagnetic frequencies.”
Sam waved him off, “Yeah, I know what an EMF meter is, but why does that one look like a busted-up walkman?”
Dean smiled proudly. “Because that’s what I made it out of.” He moved it Sam’s way. “It’s homemade.”
Sam sighed. “Yeah, I can see that.”
Dean’s smile fell as he ran the EMF meter over a piece of the wreckage. I noticed yellow dust that looked kind of like tumeric. I ran a finger along it and looked at it. Dean’s EMF meter spiked, and I shook the powder off my finger.
“The fuck is this stuff?” I turned to Sam.
“Language.” He flicked my head before pulling out a plastic baggie. “Only one way to find out.”
He scraped some into the bag. There was a bustling outside the door, and Dean and I looked at each other. Someone shouted an order, and Dean grabbed me by the back of the neck, tugging me down as we scrambled out of the building. We made it through the back and the alarms went off. Dean looked around the corner of the building before pulling me behind him, Sam following. We made it to the barbed wire fence, and Dean threw his suit jacket over it. He patted my shoulder.
“You first.”
I grunted as I clambered over the fence, Sam following, Dean last. I winced, trying to keep my weight off my ankle. It hadn’t healed right, and sometimes things made it hurt. For example, climbing over fences.
“Well, these monkey suits do come in handy.” Dean grinned at me before yanking the jacket back and running.
Sam and I scoffed before following.
                                                        ***
Jerry had his eye up to the microscope, which was replicated onto his computer screen.
“Huh. This stuff is covered in sulfur.” Jerry pulled back and looked at us.
Sam and I went wide eyed, looking right at each other. I gulped, and Dean tensed.
“You're sure?” Sam asked.
Jerry nodded, gesturing toward the microscope. “Take a look for yourself.”
Banging resonated from outside the office, and I jumped about a foot in the air. Dean put his hands on my shoulders as someone cursed outside.
“If you kids will excuse me, I have an idiot to fire.” Jerry nodded before heading for the door.
Dean looked into the microscope and hummed, scratching his head. He looked at me and nodded toward it. I sighed and looked through, only to see yellow.
“You know, there's not too many things that leave behind a sulfuric residue.” I winced.
“Demonic possession?” Sam suggested.
Dean shrugged. “It would explain how a mortal man would have the strength to open up an emergency hatch.”
“De’s right. It the guy was possessed, it's possible.” I pushed myself up to sit on the desk.
Dean shuddered, leaning beside me. “This goes way beyond floating over a bed or barfing pea soup. I mean… it's one thing to possess a person, but to use them to take down an entire airplane?”
“Sams, you ever heard of something like this before?” I turned to the tall boy.
He shook his head. “Never.”
                                                        ***
I rubbed my eyes as I stepped out of the bathroom, just showered. Sam and Dean were in full research mode. Sam was on his laptop, and Dean was strewn over a bed, reading a paper. There were pictures and articles taped onto the walls, and a few books on religion were piled on the other bed.
I sighed and padded toward Sam, wrapping my arms around him from behind, dropping my cheek onto his shoulder. He had the Wikipedia page on demons in Japanese culture open.
“So, every religion in every world culture has the concept of demons and demonic possession, right? I mean Christian, Native American, Hindu, you name it.” Sam didn’t look back as he spoke.
“Yeah.” I nodded.
“Yeah, but none of them describe anything like this.” Dean sighed.
“Well, that's not exactly true. You see, according to Japanese beliefs, certain demons are behind certain disasters, both natural and man-made. One causes earthquakes, another causes disease.” I read off the screen.
“And this one causes plane crashes?” Dean asked. He came to our side, leaning against the table. “Alright, so, what? We have a demon that's evolved with the times and found a way to ratchet up the body count?”
“Yeah. You know, who knows how many planes it's brought down before this one?” Sam looked up with concern in his eyes.
Dean snorted before looking away.
“De?” I stood, detangling myself from Sam.
“I dunno, guys. This isn’t our normal gig. I mean… demons, they don’t want anything besides death a-and destruction for its own sake.” His eyes landed on me and he frowned. “This is big. I wish Olive wasn’t here. And I wish Dad was.”
I looked to the floor. I knew Dean wanted me out of the way for my own protection, but it still stung to hear the words leave his mouth.
“Yeah. I wish he was too.” Sam looked back at his computer.
Dean caught the look on my face as I shuffled to the bed, picking up one of the books. He sat next to me.
“Sweetie, that’s not what I meant.”
“I know.” I mumbled, flipping through the book.
He put his hand down, stopping me from reading. He looked at me with regret on his face and licked his lips. His phone rang before he could say anything. He sighed before answering.
“Hello?”
I tried to pry his hand away, but he kept it firm, shooting me a look.
“Oh, hey, Jerry.”
I sighed and pulled the book away, dropping it onto the bed. I wrapped my arms around Dean’s and scooted closer, dropping my cheek onto his shoulder and looking up at him. His face changed and he swallowed.
“Wh- Jerry, I'm sorry. What happened?”
Sam turned around and I inched closer, trying to hear Jerry on the other end.
“Where'd this happen?”
“About sixty miles west of here, near Nazareth.”
“I'll try to ignore the irony in that.” Dean’s freckled face grew a smile.
“I'm sorry?”
Same, Jerry, same.
“Nothing. Jerry, hang in there, all right? We'll catch up with you soon.” Dean squeezed my hand before hanging up.
“Another crash?” I perked up.
“Yeah.” He squeezed my hand again, and I let go. “Let's go.”
“Where?” Sam stood.
“Nazareth.”
                                                        ***
“Sulfur?” I asked.
Jerry was looking through the microscope again. Dean was sitting next to me, on the desk, and Sam was in the chair in front us. I had my feet propped up on the back edge of his seat, arms slung over his shoulders. Jerry nodded.
“Well, that's great. All right, that's two plane crashes involving Chuck Lambert. This demon sounds like it was after him.” Dean mumbled.
“With all due respect to Chuck, if that's the case, that would be the good news.” Sam looked up.
“What's the bad news?”
“Chuck's plane went down exactly forty minutes into flight. And get this, so did flight 2485.” I turned to look at Dean, whose face fell.
“Forty minutes? What does that mean?”
Dean sighed. “It's biblical numerology. You know, Noah's Ark, it rained for forty days. The number means death.”
“Sam and I went back, and there have been six plane crashes over the last decade that all went down exactly forty minutes in.” I informed.
“Any survivors?” Dean asked.
Sam shook his head. “No. Or not until now, at least, not until flight 2485, for some reason.”
I pieced things together, then looked back to Dean. “On the cockpit voice recorder, remember what the EVP said?”
“No survivors.”
I nodded, and realization was visible on Sam’s face. 
“It's going after all the survivors.”
Dean sighed. “It's trying to finish the job.”
                                                        ***
Sam’s face seemed to play the role his voice was acting. “Really? Well, thank you for taking our survey, And if you do plan to fly, please don't forget your friends at United Britannia Airlines. Thanks.”
His smile dropped the minute he hung up the phone.
“Alright. That takes care of Blaine Sanderson and Dennis Holloway. They're not flying anytime soon.” I looked at Dean, who was driving.
“So our only wildcard is the flight attendant Amanda Walker.”
“Right. Her sister Karen said her flight leaves Indianapolis at eight pm. It's her first night back on the job.” Sam spoke.
“That sounds like just our luck.” Dean groaned.
“De, this is a five-hour drive, even with you behind the wheel.” I grimaced.
“Call Amanda's cell phone again, see if we can't head her off at the pass.”
“Already left her three voice messages. She must have turned her cellphone off.” Sam sighed. “God, we're never gonna make it.”
Dean sighed and looked at me, then slammed the brakes, throwing the car in park. He got out, pulling me with him. He slid back in, taking my spot. I grinned as I shut the door and put the car in drive. Dean looked at Sam.
“Dean, she’s fifteen.”
“Hey, at least we’ll make it.”
                                                        ***
I pulled into the first parking spot I saw and turned the car off, shoving the keys into Dean’s hand. He got out right after me, heading right for the airport.
“Hey! Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Sam stopped him.
Dean looked back at us and furrowed his eyebrows.
“Dude, we’re about to walk into an airport.” 
Dean shook his head, and Sam shook his back. Dean scowled, shaking his head again. I only giggled as I pulled the knives from my belt and my ankle. Sam sighed at me, and I grinned before pulling out the last knife from the holster strapped against the small of my back. I tossed it into Baby’s trunk.
Dean followed suit, piling a small gun and more knives into the car. Sam stood, weight rested on one hip, arms crossed over his chest. Dean finished and slammed the trunk shut with a frown.
“I feel naked.” Dean hissed.
Sam and I grinned at each other. Dean scowled once more, pulling me to walk as he headed for the airport once more.
We picked up the pace when we realized the time. We ran into the airport, and I stopped at the departure board, both boys running into me.
“Right there!” Sam pointed above my head. “They’re boarding in thirty minutes.”
Dean nodded. “Okay. We still have some cards to play. We need to find a phone.”
I pointed to the white courtesy phone right next to us. Dean blinked at me before picking it up.
“Hi. Gate thirteen.”
Sam and I looked at each other, nervous.
“I'm trying to contact an Amanda Walker. She's a flight attendant on flight, um…” Green eyes came my way.
Four two four, I mouthed as I held my fingers up with corresponding numbers.
“Flight 424.” He blurted. “Come on.” He mumbled, tapping his fingers. His face lit up and he cleared his throat. “Miss Walker. Hi, this is Dr. James Hetfield from St. Francis Memorial Hospital. We have a Karen Walker here.”
“Nothing serious, just a minor car accident, but she was injured, so-”
Dean paused and his face went pale.”You what?”
Sam and I looked at each other again. Sam lifted me onto his hip so I would be level with Dean. We leaned in, trying to hear Amanda.
“Uh, well… there must be some mistake.” Dean sputtered.
“And how would you even know I was here? Is this one of Vince's friends?”
Dean looked at us. Sam shrugged, and I nodded. A grin grew on Dean’s face.
“Guilty as charged.”
“Wow.” She scoffed. “This is unbelievable.”
“He's really sorry.”
“Well, you tell him to mind his own business and stay out of my life, okay?”
“Yes, but… he really needs to see you tonight, so-”
“No, I'm sorry. It's too late.” She cut him off.
“Don't be like that. Come on. The guy's a mess. Really. It's pathetic.” Dean struggled.
“Really?”
Dean nodded as if she could see him. “Oh, yeah.”
“Look, I've got to go. Um… tell him to call me when I land.”
“No, no. Wait, Amanda. Amanda!”
The dial tone rang.
“Damn it! So close.” Dean hissed, slamming the phone down.
“Thank you for flying United Britannia Airlines.” A robotic voice came over the intercom, and Sam sighed.
“Alright, it's time for plan B. We're getting on that plane.”
“Whoa, whoa, now just hold on a second.” Dean’s eyes went wide and his skin went pale.
“Dean, that plane is leaving with over a hundred passengers on board, and if we're right, that plane is gonna crash.” Sam whispered.
“I know.” Dean frowned and I sighed as Sam continued.
“Okay. So we're getting on the plane, we need to find that demon and exorcise it. I'll get the tickets. You and Ollie get whatever you can out of the trunk. Whatever that will make it through the security. Meet me back here in five minutes.”
Dean only looked at him, eyebrows knitted together. I avoided Sam’s stare.
“Are you okay?” He then looked to me. “Is he okay?”
“No, not really.” Dean mumbled.
“What? What's wrong?” Sam’s eyes grew wide with concern.
“Well, I kind of have this problem with, uh…”
“Flying?”
“It’s never really been an issue until now.” Dean practically pouted.
“You're joking, right?”
“Do I look like I’m joking? Why do you think I drive everywhere, Sam?”
“Alright. Uh…” Sam blinked. “You and Olive stay. I’ll go.”
“What?”
“No!”
Dean and I spoke at the same time.
“I'll do this one on my own.” Sam shrugged.
“What are you, nuts? You said it yourself, the plane's gonna crash.” Dean hissed, eyes so wide I thought they would pop out of his head.
“Dean, we can do it together, or I can do this one by myself. I'm not seeing a third option, here.”
“Uh, hi, I’m right here.” I glared up at Sam.
“Oh fuck no. You’re not both getting on that plane.” Dean grunted.
Sam and I looked at each other.
“If Sam’s going, so am I.”
“Oh, please. You two haven’t ever worked alone together.” Dean argued.
Sam and I snorted. “Dean, we successfully evaded cops.”
“And we got your ass out of jail.” Sam rose an eyebrow.
“We’re getting on the plane, Dean. Sammy, go get tickets, I’ll get the gear.” I patted Sam’s arm before turning on my heel.
“Come on! Really?” Dean called after me, but realized I wouldn’t budge. “Man…”
                                                        ***
I was, as usual, sandwiched between my brothers. Sam has the window seat, and Dean was in the aisle seat. He was reading the safety card, and I was leaning against Sam, reading the book in his lap.
“Just try to relax.” He tried to soothe Dean.
“Just try to shut up.” Dean hissed.
Sam rolled his eyes and we turned our attention back to the book. We were sure this one would contain a way to exorcise the demon, but we had yet to find a solid one that wouldn’t get us all killed. The plane took off, and Dean grew even more tense, jumping at each sound. Sam smirked and I hit his side, suppressing a smile. Dean leaned back in his seat and began to hum.
“You're humming Metallica?” Sam asked.
Dean had his eyes shut. “Calms me down.”
“Look, man, I get you're nervous, all right? But you gotta stay focused.” Sam instructed.
Dean nodded, taking a deep breath before opening his eyes. “Okay.”
“I mean, we got thirty-two minutes and counting to track this thing down, or whoever it's possessing, anyway, and perform a full-on exorcism.” Sam went on.
“Yeah, on a crowded plane. That's gonna be easy.” Dean scoffed, eyes closing again.
“Hey, hey, hey. It’s gonna be okay. Promise. Just take it one step at a time, all right? Now, who is it possessing?” I moved from being latched onto Sam’s arm to Dean’s. 
“It's usually gonna be somebody with some sort of weakness, you know, a chink in the armor that the demon can worm through. Somebody with an addiction or some sort of emotional distress.” Dean was calmer when he was thinking.
“Well, this is Amanda's first flight after the crash. If I were her, I'd be pretty messed up.” I offered.
Dean mumbled an agreement as a flight attendant passed.
“Excuse me. Are you Amanda?”
“No, I'm not.” She shook her head.
“Oh, my mistake.”
She only smiled and went on. Dean looked back, then sighed.
“Alright, well, that's got to be Amanda back there, so I'll go talk to her, and, uh, I'll get a read on her mental state.” Dean shifted.
“Wait, De, what if she's already possessed?” I grabbed his wrist.
He grinned. “There's ways to test that.” He pulled a bottle of water out of his bag. “I brought holy water.”
“No.” Sam hissed.
I sighed and Sam snatched the bottle, hiding it in the pocket of his hoodie.
“You gotta be subtle, dumbass. If she’s possessed, she should flinch at the name of God.” I whispered. 
“Oh. Nice.”
“It’s the name of Christ, not God.” Sam corrected me. “Hey.” He called Dean back.
“Say it in Latin.”
“I know.” Dean turned again.
“Okay. Hey!”
“What?” Dean hissed.
“Uh… in Latin, it’s Christo.”
“Dude, I know! I'm not an idiot!” Dean snarled before making his way to the back of the plane.
I watched as he hit an empty seat after the entire plane shook. He disappeared behind a set of blue curtains, and I turned back to Sam.
“I think we’ve got one.” He tilted the book toward me.
I read over it and shrugged. “Don’t see why not. Sounds simple enough.”
“You’ll read both parts, I’ll help Dean hold him down?”
I nodded. “I can do that. You sure you’re gonna be okay?”
He nodded, giving me puppy eyes. “The further away you are from it, the better.”
I smiled and leaned back into him. I felt him laugh as he wrapped an arm around my shoulders. Dean flopped down next to me, sighing.
“Alright, well, she's got to be the most well-adjusted person on the planet.”
I sat up. “You said Christo?”
Dean nodded.
“And?” Sam leaned forward.
Dean shook his head, again panicked. “There's no demon in her. There's no demon getting in her.”
“So, if it's on the plane, it can be anyone. Anywhere.” Sam sighed.
The plane shook before any of us could say anything, and Dean hit the armrest, knuckles white and teeth clenched.
“Come on! That can't be normal!”
“Hey, hey, it's just a little turbulence.” Sam shushed.
“Sam, this plane is going to crash, okay? So quit treating me like I'm friggin' four.” Dean growled.
“Dean. You need to calm down.” I spoke in a smaller voice.
“Well, I'm sorry I can't.” Dean was gentler with me, but still stressed.
“Yes, you can.” Sam tried.
“Dude, stow the touchy-feely, self-help yoga crap, it's not helping.” Dean’s voice was a hiss again.
“De, he’s right. You have to. You’re panicked, and you’re wide open to being possessed. So you need to calm down right now.” I squeezed his hand.
Dean looked at me before taking a long and slow breath. I hugged his arm, satisfied with the effort.
“Good. Now, I found an exorcism in here that we think is gonna work. The Rituale Romanum.” Sam lifted the book.
“What do we have to do?” Dean sighed.
“It's two parts. The first part expels the demon from the victim's body. It makes it manifest, which actually makes it more powerful.” I explained.
Dean made a face. “More powerful?”
Sam and I nodded.
“How?”
“Well, it doesn't need to possess someone anymore. It can just wreak havoc on its own.” Sam shrugged.
“Oh. And why is that a good thing?” Dean squinted.
I smiled widely. “Well, because the second part sends the fucker back to hell once and for all.”
Sam flicked my ear, and I smacked his hand away as Dean stood.
“First things first, we gotta find it.”
He pulled out his EMF meter and was slow, walking up the aisle and moving it around. He got a bunch of weird looks, and Sam and I ignored the glare of an old woman. Sam clapped Dean’s shoulders, and the oldest boy jumped.
“Ah! Don't do that.”
“Anything?” I asked, stuck between them.
“No, nothing. How much time we got?”
Sam glanced at his watch. “Fifteen minutes. Maybe we missed somebody.”
“Maybe the thing's just not on the plane.” Dean mumbled.
“You believe that?” I cocked my head.
“Well, I will if you will.” He scoffed.
The EMF meter spiked in his hand, and he hit it to turn it off. I looked up to see the copilot leave the bathroom and head back to the cockpit.
“What? What is it?” Sam asked Dean, who only stared with wide eyes.
“Christo.” I whispered.
The copilot turned slowly. His eyes were entirely black. Dean grimaced, nostrils flared. Sam pulled me back, and I gasped as the copilot went back into the cockpit.
Dean pushed us backwards, to Amanda. Sam picked me off my feet so we could move faster.
“She's not gonna believe this.” I spoke from my brother’s hold, feeling like a puppy being carried by the scruff.
“Twelve minutes, guys.” Dean looked at his watch as Sam dropped me to my feet as we walked past the curtain.
“Oh, hi. Flight's not too bumpy for you, I hope.” Amanda smiled warmly.
“Actually, that's kind of what we need to talk to you about.” Dean stepped in, and Sam followed, closing the curtain.
Amanda eyed them cautiously, then looked back to me. “Um, okay. What can I do for you?”
“Alright, this is gonna sound nuts, but we just don't have time for the whole the truth is out there speech right now.” Dean said.
“We know you were on Flight 2485.” I spoke.
Her smile dropped. “Who are you guys?”
“Now, we've spoken to some of the other survivors. We know something brought down that plane and it wasn't a mechanical failure.” Sam’s voice was calm.
“We need your help because we need to stop it from happening again. Here. Now.” Dean was firm.
She shook her head. “I'm sorry, I-I’m very busy. I have to go back.” She tried to move past Dean, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her back.
I grabbed her shoulder and Dean let her go, hands up. “Wait a second. I'm not gonna hurt you, okay? But listen to me, uh…”
“The pilot in 2485, Chuck Lambert. He's dead.” I spoke up.
She turned around. “Wait. What? What, Chuck is dead?”
“He died in a plane crash. Now, that's two plane crashes in two months. That doesn't strike you as strange?” Dean suggested.
“I…”
“Look, there was something wrong with 2485. Now maybe you sensed it, maybe you didn't. But there's something wrong with this flight, too.” Sam was giving her the puppy eyes.
“Amanda, you have to believe us.” Dean pleaded.
“Please. My brothers and I, we just want to stop this.”
Amanda sighed before looking at me, eyebrows knitted together. “On… on 2485, there was this man. He… had these eyes.”
“Yes. Yes. That's exactly what we're talking about.” Sam exclaimed.
She shook her head. “I don't understand, what are you asking me to do?”
“The copilot, we need you to bring him back here.” I nodded.
“Why? What does he have to do with anything?” She asked.
“Don't have time to explain. We just need to talk to him. Okay?” Dean reassured.
“How am I supposed to go in the cockpit and get the copilot-”
“Do whatever it takes. Tell him there's something broken back here, whatever will get him out of that cockpit.” Sam cut her off.
“Do you know that I could lose my job if you-”
“Okay, well you're gonna lose a lot more if you don't help us out.” Dean was tired of waiting.
She hesitated before nodding. “Okay.”
Dean pulled the book from his jacket and handed it to me. Sam pulled out the holy water, and they both pointed to the counter.
“Sit and stay.”
I rolled my eyes and tossed the roll of duct tape to Dean before hoisting myself onto the counter.
“Yeah, what's the problem?” The copilot peeked through the curtains.
Dean punched him in the face, knocking him down. He and Sam pinned him, putting duct tape over his mouth.
“Wait, w-what are you doing? You said you were just gonna talk to him.” Amanda’s eyes went wide.
“We are gonna talk to him.” Dean took the water from Sam and splashed the copilot, who’s skin sizzled.
I swallowed the bile rising in my throat as Amanda gaped.
“Look. We need you calm. We need you outside the curtain.” Sam pointed.
“Well, I don't understand, I don't know…”
“Don't let anybody in, okay? Can you do that? Can you do that? Amanda?” Sam bargained as I found the exorcism.
“Okay. Okay.” She scurried out.
“Come on, Ol. I dunno how much longer we can hold him.” Dean grunted out.
I cleared my throat. “Regna terrae, cantate Deo, psallite Domino-”
The demon broke away from the boys and came toward me. Dean yanked him by the back of the shirt, knocking him to the floor once again.
“Qui fertis ascendit super-”
The demon knocked the boys off again, ripping off the tape and coming toward me once more. His hand slashed at my neck and I yelped, feeling a stinging sensation. I dropped the book and my hands flew to my neck, feeling blood. Sam pulled him away, and it turned to grab him by the collar.
“I know what happened to your girlfriend! She must have died screaming! Even now, she's burning!”
I winced as Sam stood, stunned. I inched my way off the counter and fell to my knees, one hand at my neck while the other went for the book.
“Sam!” Dean barked.
Sam blinked before helping him pin the demon. It kicked the book up the aisle, and I groaned.
“I got him.” Sam grunted.
The demon flew out of the copilot and disappeared into the vent. Dean hissed as he stood.
“Hurry up, we gotta finish it!”
“Book’s down there!” I pointed, neck burning.
Sam stood, and the plane dipped. Dean screamed, but pulled me into his grip as Sam went sliding down the aisle. He picked up the book, and Dean held his hand against my neck, trying to keep me calm.
“Caelum, caeli ad Orientem. Ecce dabit voci suae vocem virtutis, tribuite virtutem deo!” I could hear Sam.
A charge ran through the plane, and it leveled out. Dean pushed himself to his feet before picking me up by the waist and sitting me on the counter. Sam scrambled back, as did Amanda. She gasped, and Sam’s hands came to hold my neck.
“Is she okay?”
I tried to nod, but my skin felt tight and I looked to Dean.
“She’s gonna be just fine.”
“You’re okay, bug. We’re gonna patch you up, okay?” Sam brushed my hair behind my ear and Amanda pulled out a first aid kit.
                                                        ***
“Let’s get out of here.” Dean grunted as we stumbled off the landing strip.
Sam stopped, and I looked at him. I squeezed Dean’s hand, since I wasn’t supposed to talk, according to him.
“You okay?”
“Dean, it knew about Jessica.”
I pulled away from Dean and went to him. “Sams, these things, they…” I winced. “They read minds. They lie. That's all it was.” I tried to reassure him.
Sam nodded. “Yeah.”
Dean came to our side and pulled us both into a hug. “Come on.”
                                                        ***
“Nobody knows what you guys did, but I do. A lot of people could have been killed.” Jerry shook our hands. “Your dad's gonna be real proud.” He grinned. “Sorry you got hurt.”
I shrugged. “Comes with the job.”
“We'll see you around, Jerry.” Sam clapped my shoulder as we began to head off.
Dean stopped, “You know, Jerry?”
“Yeah.”
“I meant to ask you, how did you get my cellphone number, anyway? I've only had it for like six months.” Dean put his hands in his pockets.
“Your dad gave it to me.” He answered.
“What?” Sam tensed.
“When did you talk to him?” I gulped.
“I mean, I didn't exactly talk to him, but I called his number. His voice message said to give you a call. Thanks again, guys.” He turned and left.
                                                        ***
“This doesn't make any sense, man. I've called Dad's number like fifty times. It's been out of service.” Sam sighed.
I pouted, leaning against him, sitting on Baby’s hood.
Dean said nothing and dialed Dad’s number. It rang for a few seconds before sending us to voicemail. He hit the speaker button and placed his phone on the hood of the car.
“This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son, Dean. 785-555-0179. He can help.”
Sam steeled himself and got in the car, slamming the door. Dean and I looked at each other and I sighed, looking down. Dad wasn’t the perfect father. He was cruel. He was hurtful. He never laid a hand on me, but that was only because the boys didn’t let him. But outside of each other, he was all we had. Dean sat next to me.
“Sweetheart? What I said earlier, I didn’t mean-”
“I know, Dean. You just want me safe. I know what you meant.”
“I know that you know. But I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I’m sorry.”
I looked up at him and nodded. “S’okay, De.”
He pulled me into a hug.
“I love you, sweetpea.”
I snuggled into him and sighed. Dad was all we had, but me? I had Dean, and I always would. 
“I love you too, De.”
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Next Ep: Bloody Mary (1.05)
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bamby0304 · 6 years ago
Text
Her Saviours- Ch.8
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Series Masterlist
Summary: During an odd case, the Winchesters came across Y/N, a scared young Omega girl who had been used as a lure for a nest of vampires. After rescuing her from the monsters, John and his sons took her in knowing she was in no state to live among ordinary people. But three Alphas and one Omega is a mixture bound for disaster.
A/N: This is unbeta’d, ‘cause I legit just finished it and kinda wanted to just post it quickly so I could move on and start writing more...
Warnings: Explicit language. ABO dynamics. Angst.
Bamby
You were fast asleep, curled into Dean’s side with his arm around you as he laid down flat on his stomach. He twitched, pulling you closer as his other hand snuck under his pillow to grab the knife hidden underneath. You barely had a chance to register the fact someone else was in the room, before Dean suddenly rolled over and held you behind his back as he turned to the intruder.
His body relaxed in an instant the second he spotted Sam standing there, with a tray of coffees and a paper bag you assumed was full of food.
“Morning, sunshine.” Sam grinned knowingly at Dean, who still had you behind him.
Rubbing at his eyes, Dean groaned, “What time is it?”
“Uh, it's about five forty-five.”
“In the morning?”
“Yep.”
You whined, rolling back over to try and get some sleep.
“Where does the day go?” Dean grumbled as he dragged himself to the edge of the bed. “Did you get any sleep last night?” he asked, his words directed at Sam.
“Yeah, I grabbed a couple hours.”
Bullshit.
“Liar,” Dean called him out. “'Cause I was up at three, and you were watching a George Foreman infomercial.”
“Hey, what can I say?” Sam shrugged. “It's riveting TV.”
“When was the last time you got a good night's sleep?”
Sam didn’t seem fazed. “I don't know, a little while, I guess. It's not a big deal.”
“Yeah, it is,” Dean argued.
“Look, I appreciate your concern-”
“Oh, I'm not concerned about you. It's your job to keep our asses alive,” he gave your covered leg a pat. “So I need you sharp,” he noted. There was a paused before he asked, “Seriously, are you still having nightmares about Jess?”
That was the last straw.
Pulling the sheets back, you threw yourself out of bed, grabbed a fist full of clothes, and stormed into the bathroom.
It’s not that you didn’t like the girl, it’s just… things were weird. They were awkward. They were complicated. You were pissed.
Here you were, with two Alphas that you cared about, and they cared about you. They were young, unbonded, familiar, safe. They were smart, funny, strong, caring. They were both the full package. Two perfect specimens… and neither wanted you. Not the way you needed them, at least.
The longer you went without John, the more time you were stuck with Sam and Dean, the clearer things got. Sam was never going to get over Jess, he was never going to let you in, you were never going to have what you used to have with him. Dean was never going to settle down, he was never going to give up other women, he was never going to claim you despite the fact he insisted he had feelings for you.
If things don’t change, I’m leaving, you told yourself.
Staring at your reflection in the crappy motel mirror that made everything look a little distorted, you made a promise. If no one was willing to step up, you were going to step down.
“Thanks for making the trip so quick,” Jerry started.
After a long shower, you’d walked back out into the motel room to find Sam and Dean packing. Neither talked about your sudden departure, instead Dean had pulled you closer and kissed your forehead before telling you about a possible case. That’s how you ended up here, with Jerry, walking through the hangar he worked at.
“I ought to be doing you guys a favour, not the other way around.” Jerry turned to Sam as he went on, “Dean and your dad really helped me out. And Y/N… she was the saving grace that really calmed my family down.”
Sam glanced down at you then, lips twitching as if he wanted to smile. He fought the urge though. “Yeah, Dean told me. It was a poltergeist?”
“Poltergeist?” one of the other workers called out. “Man, I loved that movie.”
“Hey, nobody's talking to you,” Jerry snapped. “Keep walking.” He waited until he was sure no one else was listening before he nodded at Sam. “Damn right it was a poltergeist, practically tore our house apart. Tell you something, if it wasn't for you and your dad, I probably wouldn't be alive,” he told Dean and then went back to Sam. “Your dad said you were off at college. Is that right?”
“Yeah, I was. I'm… taking some time off.”
“Well, he was real proud of you. I could tell. He talked about you all the time.”
“He did?” Sam was genuinely surprised.
You ducked your head down and smiled at the ground. John had always gone on about his youngest son. The defiant black sheep of the family. John could brag about his college boy for hours if you got him going.
“Yeah, you bet he did.” Jerry nodded. “Oh, hey, you know I tried to get a hold of him, but I couldn't. How's he doing, anyway?”
“He's, um, wrapped up in a job right now,” Dean dodged.
“Well, we're missing the old man, but we get Sam. Even trade, huh?” Jerry grinned as Dean chuckled.
Sam, however, didn’t quite agree. “No, not by a long shot.”
In Jerry’s office, you all took a seat. Jerry sat on one side of the desk, while the rest of you sat on the other.
“I listened to this. And, well, it sounded like it was up your alley.” Jerry grabbed a cd and put it into a drive. “Normally I wouldn't have access to this. It's the cockpit voice recorder for United Britannia flight 2485. It was one of ours.”
The recording started, and within seconds you found your hand shooting out to grab Dean’s.
“Mayday! Mayday! Repeat! This is United Britania 2485—immediate instruction help!”
“United Britanis 2485, I copy your message-”
“May be experiencing some mechanical failure...”
Suddenly there was this loud whooshing sound before the recording stopped.
“Took off from here, crashed about two hundred miles south,” Jerry explained. “Now, they're saying mechanical failure. Cabin depressurized somehow. Nobody knows why. Over a hundred people on board. Only seven got out alive. Pilot was one. His name is Chuck Lambert. He's a good friend of mine. Chuck is, uh...well, he's pretty broken up about it. Like it was his fault.
“You don't think it was?” Sam asked.
“No, I don't.”
“Jerry, we're gonna need passenger manifests, um, a list of survivors-”
Dean nodded, cutting Sam off, “Right, and uh… any way we can take a look at the wreckage?”
“The other stuff is no problem,” Jerry assured them, “but the wreckage... fellas, the NTSB has it locked down in an evidence warehouse. No way I've got that kind of clearance.”
That didn’t seem to bother Dean, as he simply shrugged. “No problem.”
You stood with Sam outside a Copy Jack, while Dean was in doing his thing. You could have gone in with him, but you felt the need to be with the car. With the Impala.
She was as much your home as she was the brothers’. You’d lived on the road for years now, and the only consistent place you could call your won was Baby. When things always felt like they were crumbling, you knew she would always be there.
Like now. John was John, Sam was back and it was weird, Dean was his usual self which wasn’t helping you at all… you weren’t sure how much longer you could deal with all of this.
Looking over at Sam as he leaned against the car, just a few feet away from you, you wondered if things would ever be the same. If things would ever feel less strange and foreign. He used to be your best friend, someone you could rely on for anything, but now you weren’t sure.
The door to the Copy Jack opened as Dean walked out, almost pumping into a young and attractive woman right away.
She smiled, looking him up and down. “Hey.”
“Hi.” He grinned, checking her out in return.
Having seen enough, you sighed and pulled the car door open before climbing in. Just because you knew what you and Dean had wasn’t an exclusive thing, doesn’t mean you wanted to be reminded of it every time a pretty woman walks by.
“You've been in there forever,” Sam noted as his brother neared the car.
You looked out the window and watched as Dean held up two fake IDs. “You can't rush perfection.”
“Homeland Security?” Sam took one of the cards. “That's pretty illegal, even for us.”
“Yeah, well, it's something new. You know? People haven't seen it a thousand times.” Dean shrugged as he walked around the car. Both he and Sam slid in before he went on, “All right, so, what do you got?”
“Well, there's definitely EVP on the cockpit voice recorder.” Sam grabbed his laptop.
“Yeah?”
“Listen.” Sam pressed play and started the edited version of the recording Jerry had shown you.
The voices from before were all scratchy and distorted, followed by something new…
“No survivors!”
Dean frowned. "’No survivors’? What's that supposed to mean? There were seven survivors.”
“Got me.” Sam shrugged.
“So, what are you thinking? A haunted flight?”
“There's a long history of spirits and death omens on planes and ships, like phantom travellers,” Sam started. “Or remember flight 401?”
“Right.” Dean nodded. “The one that crashed, the airline salvaged some of its parts, put it in other planes, then the spirit of the pilot and co-pilot haunted those flights.”
“Right. Maybe we got a similar deal,” Sam suggested.
“All right, so, survivors, which one do you want to talk to first?”
“Third on the list, Max Jaffey,” Sam told Dean.
“Why him?”
“Well, for one, he's from around here. And two, if anyone saw anything weird, he did.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Well, I spoke to his mother. And she told me where to find him.”
“He’s in a psychiatric hospital,” you explained before Sam could.
Turning in his seat, Dean looked to you. “Psychiatric hospital?” Both you and Sam gave a short nod. His eyes landed on you again. “You’re not coming.”
“No surprise there,” you mumbled.
“Hey. It’s a psychiatric hospital, you’re an Omega, there’s no telling what might happen,” he noted.
You shrugged. “I’m not arguing, Dean. Why should I bother?” Shifting in your seat, you turned your back on him and looked out the window.
When you don’t know what the brothers might be hunting, there’s not a lot you could do. What little research there was, had already been done. So, while locked away in the motel room, you just flicked through the TV, doing your best not to overthink.
You wanted to call John, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t bear the thought of listening to his voice mail for the millionth time. It was painful to hear, knot knowing when or if you’d veer see him again.
The motel room door opened as Sam and Dean returned. You glanced up from the TV to greet them, only to have your words get caught in your throat.
“Why are you dressed in suits?” you asked, eyes dragging over Dean and the black and white suit he wore.
Sighing, he dumped his keys, phone and wallet on the table. “Sam thought we needed to look the part.”
“You, uh… you look good,” you managed, suddenly finding your mouth a little dry.
Dean paused as he looked over at where you were sprawled out on the bed, having been watching TV. His lips curved into a grin as he started tugging on his tie and heading your way.
“I look good, huh?” He threw his tie onto the ground and then started to crawl up the bed.
Laughing lightly, you leaned up to meet him halfway as he bent down to press his lips against yours. Despite having been upset with him earlier, you just couldn’t stay mad. Especially not when he looked like this… there was something about a guy in a suit that made you all tingly.
“Guys,” Sam groaned. “Not right now. We’ve got a case and I’m still in the room.”
“Get your own room,” Dean grumbled, trailing his lips down to your neck. “My girl needs some attention.”
Your heart fluttered when he called you his girl, all thoughts and doubts from earlier fading. Dean always managed to get you to forgive him.
Sam wasn’t letting the two of you fall into each other so easily. “Dean, the case… the sulphur.”
You tensed underneath Dean and pressed your hand on his chest to pull him back up. “Sulphur.”
Nodding, he sighed again as he pulled back and stood again. “When we checked out the wreckage, we found sulphur.”
“So… we’re thinking demon?”
“Yeah,” Sam answered, looking from you to his brother, as if he was waiting for Dean to tell you more. As if he was waiting for something specific.
Dean glanced over at his brother with a look that clearly said he didn’t want to say more, but apparently, he had no choice. Sam just waited, expectantly, making Dean sigh one last time.
“Sammy and me think you should stay out of this one.”
You looked to each brother with a growing frown. “You mean… you want me sitting in the motel room doing nothing? Not even research?”
“We can’t risk you getting involved. You’re an Omega. You’re an unclaimed Omega. We don’t know what this demon is about, and the last thing we want is for it to get a whiff of you. It’s too dangerous.”
There was a tightness in your throat as you watched Dean. You took in his words, you understood where he was coming from, and you hated it.
“I’m an Omega.” You gave a curt nod. “Sure, Dean… I’ll stay out of it.” Shaking your head, you got up and headed for the bathroom before closing and locking the door behind you.
You’re an Omega. You’re an unclaimed Omega. So, in other words, you’re too fragile and vulnerable to help us. You’ll just get in the way. You should stay home and be a good little Omega, like you’re supposed to. You’re not built for this.
Fine then. If they didn’t want you to help, then you wouldn’t. Clearly you weren’t needed here.
A knock on the bathroom door had you turning your head against the bath’s edge. You’d been in there for about an hour, soaking in the hot water you’d filled the tub with.
“Y/N?” Dean called from the other side. “We got a lead… Sam and me, we’re gonna head out. You okay here?”
Rolling your eyes, you turned away from the door again. “Yep.”
There was some mumbling on the other side that you couldn’t quite make out, before Dean snapped in a harsh whisper. “I got it, Sam. Just go get in the car.”
You listened as someone moved around in the other room before they left.
“Sweetheart… you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine, Dean. You should go. There’s people to save and monsters to hunt, remember.”
He paused for a moment before giving the door a tap. “Okay… call us if you need anything.”
“Yep,” you answered shortly again.
Nothing else was said.
You listened as he moved about the room before leaving. Next you heard Baby start up, her roaring engine loud enough for you to hear perfectly. Then she was driving away.
The instant you were sure you were alone, and the brothers wouldn’t be back, you pulled yourself out of the tub and emptied the water. Grabbing your towel, you dried yourself off quickly and then pulled on some clothes before heading back out into the room.
Gathering everything of yours, you stuffed it into your bag. After making sure you’d left nothing behind, you pulled the strap of your bag over your shoulder and headed for the door.
Looking back once, you gave the room a sad smile before leaving.
It took no time at all before you found a car that was out of the way. No one saw anything as you broke into the car and dumped your things in the seat beside you. Dean had taught you how to hotwire a car a couple of years ago… you doubted he’d expected you to use that skill to run away from him.
Bamby
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miasmuseemporium · 6 years ago
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Hello friends. Given that I run a multi-muse blog, it’s inevitable that there will be some muses who are more popular than others. I’ve decided that I’m going to make a list of the characters who need more interactions, with a link to their about pages, so without further ado, here’s Mia’s List of Lonely Hearts!!
Marvel
Mayday Parker (Canon Divergent)
April Parker (Canon Divergent)
Nebula Titan
Karolina Dean (Comic Canon Compliant)
Tatiana Shotova (Red Room OC)
Agent J (Men in Black)*
Rachel Holtz (Spiderverse OC)
Doctor Who
Susan Foreman
Ryan Sinclair*
Smaller Fandoms
Evie Frye (Assassin’s Creed: Syndicate)*
Percy Jackson (Percy Jackson and the Olympians)*
Lou Ellen Blackstone (Percy Jackson and the Olympians)*
Liam Thompson (Fandomless OC)
* - means muse is in test period, and has no about page
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frolwriting · 7 years ago
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A Whole New World: The Phantom Traveler Part 1
Hey guys!  I’m sorry I didn’t post any this week.  I needed a break from writing for the holidays.  I’ll have something posted tomorrow I promise.  You also get this chapter!  We’ll end this year right.  There might be some end of the year surprises tomorrow.  Stay tuned for that.  Anyways, on with the chapter!
Fandom: Supernatural
Series: A Whole New World
Warnings: Violence
_______________________________________________________________________
“How much you want to bet that Dean is still asleep?” I asked as me and Sam got back to our motel room with coffee and some muffins. Sam grabbed the bag of muffins I was holding so that I could open the door. When I opened the door, I saw that Dean was reaching under his pillow obviously going for the weapon he had under there. “Stand down. It’s just us. We brought breakfast.” I said going over to our small table and setting down my coffee.
“What time is it?” He asked still looking sleepy.
“Uh, it’s about five forty-five.” Sam said looking at his watch.
“In the morning?” Dean asked.
“Yep.” Me and Sam said. Sam was really happy when he found out I was a morning person. That meant he didn’t have to drag two people out of bed in the morning. I had gotten more comfortable with staying with them in motel rooms especially since someone tried to break into my room one night. That was really terrifying, but I somehow took the guy down thanks to the training Sam and Dean have been doing with me. The guy didn’t expect that.
“Where does the day go?” He asked sitting up. “Did you two get any sleep last night?”
“Yeah, I grabbed a couple hours.” Sam said.
“Liar. ‘Cause I was up at three, and you were watching a George Foreman infomerical. I knew Kate got some sleep. She’s just a weird morning person.”
“Hey!”
“No offense sweetheart.”
“Hey, what can I say? It’s riveting TV.” I chuckled slightly.
“When was the last time you got a good night’s sleep?”
“I don’t know, a little while, I guess. It’s not a big deal.”
“Yeah, it is.” Dean said.
“Sam, you’re smart enough to know that’s terrible for a person.” I said turning to him with crossed arms.
“Look, I appreciate your concern-”
“Oh, I’m not concerned about you. It’s your job to help keep my ass alive, so I need you sharp. I have Kate, but she’s still learning.” Sam just shrugged. Seriously, are you still having nightmares about Jess?“ Sam went over to the other bed and handed Dean his coffee.
"Yeah, but it’s not just her. It’s everything. I just forgot, you know? This job. Man, it gets to you.”
“You can’t let it. You can’t bring it home like that.”
“Sometimes you can’t help it. We see a lot of things. Some things you just can’t forget.” I said remembering what’s going to happen later to them.“
"Exactly.” Sam paused. “All this it…never keeps you up at night?” Sam asked. Dean shook his head. I knew he was lying. He always has nightmares. I didn’t bring it up though. “Never? You’re never afraid?”
“No, not really.” Another lie. He’s scared of losing the people he loves. Sam pulled out the large knife that Dean keeps under his pillow. We all keep weapons under our pillow. He held it up to prove his point. “That’s not fear. That is precaution.”
“All right, whatever. I’m too tired to argue.” Just then Dean got a phone call. He picked up. “Hello?” Pause. “Oh, right, yeah. Up in Kittanning, Pennsylvania, the poltergeist thing. It’s not back is it?” Must have been someone that John and Dean helped with. “What is it?” Something was wrong. Dean eyed both of us. A few minutes later, Dean hung up. “Okay guys, pack up we’re headed to Pennsylvania.” We got all of our stuff and got into the Impala. I knew this was going to be a really long ride, so I thought I might as well sleep some more. Dean only thought that I got some sleep. In honesty, I didn’t sleep a wink. I’ve been having my own nightmares. Nightmares of things to come. Every time I get in the Impala though, I seem to have nothing. It’s like the Impala protects me. I feel safe when I’m in this car. We got to the place where Dean’s friend Jerry worked and met up with her.
“Thanks for making the trip so quick. I ought to be doing you guys a favor, not the other way around. Dean and your dad really helped me out.” Jerry said.
“Yeah, he told us. It was a poltergeist?” Sam asked.
“Poltergeist? Man, I loved that movie.” A man said coming up to us.
“Hey, nobody’s talking to you. Keep walking. Damn right it was a poltergeist, practically tore our house apart. Tell you something, if it wasn’t for you and your dad, I probably wouldn’t be alive. Your dad said you were off at college. Is that right?”
“Yeah, I was. I’m-taking some time off.” Sam said painfully.
“Well, he was proud of you. I could tell. He talked about you all the time.”
“He did?” Sam asked surprised.
“Yeah, you bet he did.” She finally turned to me. “I’m sorry, I don’t know who you are.”
“Oh, yeah. I’m not a Winchester. I’m Kate Foster. These two are my hunting partners.” I said extending a hand for her to shake.
“Well it’s nice to meet you Kate.” She shook my hand then turned to Dean. “Oh, hey, you know I tried to get a hold of him, but I couldn’t. How’s he doing anyway?”
“He’s, um, wrapped up in a job right now.” Dean said.
“Well, we’re missing the old man, but we get Sam and Kate. Three is better than two, huh?” Dean laughed.
“Well having Dad would still be extremely helpful. Kate is still learning.”
“I got something I was you guys to hear.” Jerry said. She lead us to an office. She walked over to the computer. “I listened to this, and well, it sounded like it was up your alley.” She put the CD into the computer. “Normally I wouldn’t have access to this. It’s the cockpit voice recorder for United Britannia flight 2485. It was one of ours.” She pushed play on the computer.
“Mayday! Mayday! Repeat! This is Britannia 2485-immediate instruction help!” One man said.
“United Britannia 2485, I copy your message.” Another man said.
“May be experiencing some mechanical failure.” The first voice said. There was a loud whooshing sound. The recording cut off there.
“Took off from here, crashed about two hundred miles south. Now, they’re saying mechanical failure. Cabin depressurized somehow. Nobody knows why. Over a hundred people on board. Only seven got out alive. Pilot was one. His name is Chuck Lambert. He’s a good friend of mine. Chuck is, uh…well, he’s pretty broken up about it. Like it was his fault.”
“You don’t think it was?” Sam asked.
“No, I don’t.” Jerry said seriously.
“Jerry, we’re gonna need passenger manifests, um, a list of survivors.” Sam said.
“All right.”
“And, uh, any way we can take a look at the wreckage?” Dean asked.
“The other stuff is no problem. But the wreckage…guys, the NTSB has it locked down in an evidence warehouse. No way I’ve got that kind of clearance.” Dean frowned. I nodded my head knowingly.
“No problem.” I said.
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takemetotheriotofthestars · 7 years ago
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No Survivors (Phantom Traveler S1, Ep4, Pt1)
Supernatural Season 1, Episode 4, Part 1 Warnings: Swearing Words: 1,706
Masterlist
“Morning, sunshine’s.” Sam’s voice stirred you from your sleep, you buried your face deeper into the couch cushions after you got a whiff of coffee. You heard footsteps approach you before the sound of something being set down on the table a few feet away from you. “What time is it?” Dean asked, the bed creaked as he moved. You slowly turn over, giving up sleep for a bit. “Uh, it's about five forty-five.” Sam replied after he checked his watch, you raise an eyebrow as you look at him with tired eyes. “In the morning?” You ask, he nods. You sigh and sat up, rubbing at your eyes as a yawn escapes you. The bed creaked more as Dean sat up. “Where does the day go?” Dean said, sarcasm lacing his tone. Sam handed you a coffee and a pastry, you took it and sipped your hot drink. “Did you get any sleep last night?” Dean asked, you already knew the answer to that since you were up until three due to not being able to sleep on the stiff couch. You took another sip of the caffeinated beverage as Sam answered. “Yeah, I grabbed a couple hours.” You rolled your eyes and scoffed. “Bullshit, you were up at three watching a George Foreman infomercial.” You say, you stared at him, he looks away. “Hey, what can I say? It's riveting TV.” He replied, Dean looked at his brother with concern. “When was the last time you got a good night's sleep?” Dean asked, Sam shrugged as he sat on the table. “I don't know, a little while, I guess. It's not a big deal.” He said, you shook your head. “Sam-” You start but he cuts you off. “Look, I appreciate your concern—” Sam says but Dean cuts him off. “Oh, I'm not concerned about you. It's your job to keep my ass alive, so I need you sharp.” Dean looked at you and tilted his head to the side. “Did you get any sleep?” You yawned and nodded your head. “Less than two hours.” You replied, you looked at Sam “Nightmares about Jess still?” Sam crosses the room with a coffee in hand and holds it out to his brother before sitting down on the bed he was suppose to sleep in after Dean took the drink. You stood up and sat on Dean’s bed. “Yeah. But it's not just her. It's everything. I just forgot, you know? This job. Man, it gets to you.” Sam shakes his head gently, you nod. When you were on a couple of your very first hunting trips, you had nightmares for days on end until, eventually, you became use to the sights of the horrors. “You can't let it. You can't bring it home like that.” Dean said. “So, what? All this it...never keeps you up at night?” Sam asked, he looked a bit confused at how his brother and best friend would achieve this. You and Dean shook your heads. “Not any more.” You say. “Never? You're never afraid?” Sam scrunches his eyebrows. “No, not really.” Dean says, you rolled your head. “Liar.” You say before you reached underneath his pillow and pulled out a hunting knife. Dean snatches it from your hands. “That's not fear. That is precaution.” He said, you laugh a bit at his excuse. “All right, whatever. I'm too tired to argue.” Sam says, raising his hands in the air as Dean’s phone rang. He reached over to the nightstand and answered it. “Hello?” He said, you stood up and walked over to the table, setting the drink down before grabbing your bag besides the couch. “....Oh, right, yeah. Up in Kittanning, Pennsylvania, the poltergeist thing. It's not back, is it?” You raise an eyebrow at the older brother as you walked to the bathroom. “...What is it?” Dean asked, he scrunched his brows together as he heard whatever the other person said. His eyes land on you before he looked at his brother and hung up. “Case?” You asked. “Jerry from the poltergeist case wants to chat in person.” He replied, you nodded. “Right after my shower.” You say before closing the door behind you. *** “Thanks for making the trip so quick. I ought to be doing you guys a favor, not the other way around. Y/n, Dean, and your dad really helped me out.” Jerry said, he straightened out his red tie as he turned around to talk to the three of you face to face. You smiled at the bald man as an airplane flew overhead. “Yeah, he told me. It was a poltergeist?” Sam asked as a man walking by put in his opinion. “Poltergeist? Man, I loved that movie.” “Hey, nobody's talking to you. Keep walking.” Jerry said before he continued after the man was out of earshot “Damn right it was a poltergeist, practically tore our house apart. Tell you something, if it wasn't for you and your dad, I probably wouldn't be alive. Your dad said you were off at college. Is that right?” Jerry said, he stared at Sam. “Yeah, I was. I'm—taking some time off.” “Well, he was real proud of you. I could tell. He talked about you all the time.” Jerry smiled at Sam, a grin spread across your face as Sam glanced at you for reassurance about this claim. “He did?” He asked, Jerry nodded. “Yeah, you bet he did.” Jerry’s smile didn’t disappear off of his face “Oh, hey, you know I tried to get a hold of him, but I couldn't. How's he doing, anyway?” “He's, um, wrapped up in a job right now.” Dean said, you looked out of the windows and watched the grey clouds. “Well, we're missing the old man, but we get Sam. Even trade, huh?” Jerry says, you and Dean laugh. You loved Sam like a best friend but it was not even close to even. “No, not by a long shot.” Sam said. “I got something I want you guys to hear.” Jerry said, he glanced between the three of you before he nodded to the side for you guys to follow him. *** You and the boys stood in Jerry’s office, watching him put a CD into a computer. “I listened to this. And, well, it sounded like it was up your alley.” He said, looking at you and Dean. “Normally I wouldn't have access to this. It's the cockpit voice recorder for United Britannia flight 2485. It was one of ours.” He pressed play. “Mayday! Mayday! Repeat! This is United Britania 2485—immediate instruction help! United Britanis 2485, I copy your message—May be experiencing some mechanical failure...“ The pilot sounded frantic and scared until there was a loud whooshing sound. After that the recording ended. “Took off from here, crashed about two hundred miles south. Now, they're saying mechanical failure. Cabin depressurized somehow. Nobody knows why. Over a hundred people on board. Only seven got out alive. Pilot was one. His name is Chuck Lambert. He's a good friend of mine. Chuck is, uh...well, he's pretty broken up about it. Like it was his fault.” “You don't think it was?” Sam asked, you had a feeling it wasn’t his fault but instead of some monster. “No, I don't.” Jerry replied, he stared at Sam directly into his eyes. “Jerry, we’re going to need a list of survivors, please.” You say “All right.” He replies with a nod of his head. “And, uh, any way we can take a look at the wreckage?” Dean asks “The other stuff is no problem. But the wreckage…” Jerry sighs “fellas, the NTSB has it locked down in an evidence warehouse. No way I've got that kind of clearance.” You and Dean frown. “Okay..” You sigh “We’ll figure it out.” *** You and Sam leaned against the Impala as you waited for Dean to come out of a copy store. Sam’s eyes were trained on the store as you looked around at the people passing by. If they knew about the things the lurk in the dark, chaos would be released. The world would be a safer place, but nobody would be happy. Children would have the childhood that you had, they would worry about the things in the darkness. Instead of playing with dolls and racecars, they’ll be learning how to shoot a gun and not missing a target. Dean exits the store and walks down the steps, he held up three ID’s. “You've been in there forever.” Sam said, as his brother handed you and him an ID. “You can't rush perfection.” Dean replied, you stared at the card in your hands. “Homeland Security?” You raise an eyebrow at Dean. “That's pretty illegal, even for us.” “Yeah, well, it's something new. You know? People haven't seen it a thousand times.” Dean says. You and the brothers get in the car. “All right, so, what do you got?” “Well, there's definitely EVP on the cockpit voice recorder.” Sam says, you nod. “Listen to this.” You say, pressing play on the tape. “No survivors!” A scratchy voice yells before the tape ends. “"No survivors"? What's that supposed to mean? There were seven survivors.” Dean glances at you and his brother with confusion. You shrug. “So, what are you thinking? A haunted flight?” “Well, there's a long history of spirits and death omens on planes and ships, like phantom travelers.” You say “Remember flight 401?” “Right.” Dean says “The one that crashed, the airline salvaged some of its parts, put it in other planes, then the spirit of the pilot and copilot haunted those flights.” “Maybe we got something similar to that.” You say, Dean nods in thought. “All right, so, survivors, which one do you want to talk to first?” He asks, you look down at the list you held before handing it to Sam. “Max Jaffey.” You say. “Why him?” Dean scans down the list. “Well, for one, he's from around here. And two, if anyone saw anything weird, he did.” Sam says before you can say your own reasons. “What makes you say that?” You and Dean ask in sync. You give Sam a questioning look. “Well, I spoke to his mother.”
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queen-of-deans-booty · 7 years ago
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Phantom Traveler- Part 1
Pairing: Eventual Dean x Reader
Word Count: 2,535
Warnings: Typical Supernatural violence, angst, language, minor character death, blood, you know the usual
Summary: When the hunt for John still runs cold, a guy who you’ve helped before calls you, asking for your help. Dean has to face his worst fear in order to save everyone else. Can he do it? 
Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Please, if you want to be tagged for this series, let me know and I’ll add you! If you want to be tagged for my other fics, I’ll add you! I want to hear what you guys think about this. 
Feedback is always appreciated
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Your name: submit What is this?
The hardest part of hunting was the fact that you couldn’t save everyone. People die and sometimes, there is nothing you could do. Like Roy, for example. That Wendigo really snatched him up. There was nothing you could do to save him. Or Jake, Lucas’ grandfather. There was nothing you could do to save him.
No matter what the hunt was, there were always going to be causalities and you had to be okay with that.
Except, you weren’t.
You didn’t get nightmares often but when you did, they were always about the people you couldn’t save. That caused you to sleep less and less. Like now, for example. Sam was already up and out, getting you and Dean coffee. But you, on the other hand, was watching Dean sleep.
Yes, one might call that being a creep but Dean looked so peaceful. It was dark in the motel room but you could still see the dance of freckles on his face, well, half of a face. He was lying on his stomach which meant it gave you full access to his thighs and ass.
The covers managed to fly off him during the night and he was only wearing his boxers. It fit him so snug, you wondered what the front of him looked like. Oh, well, the ass will do just fine for now. You will tell Dean how you feel some other time but for right now, you were content with just staring at him.
Your head snapped to the door when you heard a key jungle in the lock. You knew Sam was out but you were on full alert. The way the motel was, it had a screen in front of the door so if you were behind it and someone came in, all you could see was a shadow and a large frame entered the room.
You hoped that this was Sam and that he wasn’t making too much noise to wake Dean up. Dean was a light sleeper, thanks to being a Hunter. Being a Hunter sharpened your senses and gave you a sense of a superhero feeling. Sam walked around the corner of the screen, coffee in hand.
“You’re just going to stare at him all morning?” You rolled your eye and grabbed the coffee for you.
“It’s not my fault your brother is gorgeous.” You sipped, moaning at how good it tasted.
“So why don’t you just tell him?”
“No way, I can’t risk what we have. I’ve known you guys since I was 5 and I’ve seen how he just goes through women like they’re pieces of gum. When they lose their taste, you get a new one. I can’t be that girl to him. He means too much to me; you mean too much to me.” You took another sip, looking at Dean. He groaned when he heard you talking and sat up a little, still not fully awake.
“Morning, sunshine.” Sam said with a chuckle.
“What time is it?” He grumbled. He was so cute in the mornings with his rustled-up hair and deep morning voice.
“About 5:45.” Sam replied.
“In the morning?” Dean sighed.
‘Yeah.”
“Where does the day go?” Dean sat up, grabbing the coffee that Sam got for him. “Morning sweetheart.” You blushed and waved at him, coffee cup at your lips.
“Did you get any sleep last night?” Deana sked his brother. Sam did look a little tired and you wondered the same thing.
“Yeah, I grabbed a couple of hours.”
“Liar,” Dean said immediately after. “Because I was up at 3 and you were watching a George Foreman infomercial.”
“Hey, what can I say? It’s riveting TV.” You giggled at this and Dean looked at you.
“I’m glad you find this funny,” He turned back to his brother. “When is the last time you got a good night’s sleep?”
“I don’t know, a little while, I guess. It’s not a big deal.” Sam waved him off. Of course, it was a big deal because Sam’s health was really important as a Hunter and as a human being.
“Yeah it is.” Dean sipped his coffee.
“Look, I appreciate your concern,” Sam started to say.
“Oh, I'm not concerned about you. It's your job to keep my ass alive, so I need you sharp.”
“Yeah, Sam, it’s not healthy keeping in all those feelings.” You sighed. Sam only shrugged and you bit your lip in thought.
“Seriously, are you still having nightmares about Jess?”
“Yeah. But it's not just her, it's everything. I just forgot, you know? This job, man, it gets to you.” Sam took a long swig of his coffee, not ready to talk about this just yet.
“You can’t let it; you can’t bring it home like that.”
“So, what? All this, it never keeps you up at night?” Sam wondered. Dean shook his head and drank his coffee. “Never? You're never afraid?” He looked at you but back at his brother.
“No, not really.” Dean shrugged. Sam scoffed and reached under Dean’s pillow, only to reveal a hunting knife.
“That’s not fear,” Dean snatched the knife back. “It’s precaution.”
“Yeah, Sam. At first, I used to nightmares for weeks at a time before I could get a good night’s sleep but once you let it in, and face that this is reality, you kind of expect it.” You explained to the younger brother.
“All right, whatever. I'm too tired to argue.” Sam chuckled. Dean’s phone rang and he looked at it as if it was going to answer itself. Dean looked at his brother before looking at you. He was acting as if he’s never heard a phone ring before.
“Dean answer it, it isn’t going to answer itself.”
“Hello?” Dean answered the phone after the fourth ring. You heard someone talking on the other line but could only make out a ‘Jerry’ and ‘your dad’. Dean’s face went from confusion to relief. He pulled the phone back and put it on speaker phone.
“Oh right, yeah. Up in Kittanning, Pennsylvania, the poltergeist thing. It's not back, is it?” He replied to the person.
“No, no, thank god, no. But it's something else, and... uh, I think it could be a lot worse.” A man said from the other line.
“What is it?” He looked at you and you bit your lip. You recognize the hunt. Dean had invited you to go on a hunt with his dad and take care of a mean poltergeist. Jerry Panos or Panaosi, something like that.
“Can we talk in person?” Jerry asked.
“Yeah, I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Dean said, hanging up.
“Who was that?” Sam asked.
“Jerry Panowski. Dad, Y/N and I helped him with a hunt in Pennsylvania. It was nasty but Dad said that if he ever needed help, call and now he is. We need to go, this sounded serious.” Dean set his coffee down and he got up, going to the bathroom to take a shower. You and Sam were already dressed, thanks to waking up early.
“When are you going to let me ride shotgun?” you grinned and looked at Sam.
“When I’m not in the car.” Sam smirked. In no time at all, you were heading down the road to Pennsylvania to help Jerry finish another case. You were glad that you and the boys were hunting together again.
It made you feel more at home than if Sam was away at Stanford again. You didn’t know if he would ever go back there again but you didn’t want to take your chances. Right now, all you could do is take it one day at a time.
You arrived at the airport faster than you thought you would. Dean was always the worst and best driver of them all. Worst by not being cautious and speeding everywhere but the best because once you’ve ridden in a car with the man, he was like no other. You guess it was the ‘you had to be there’ moment.
“Thanks for making the trip so quick,” Jerry smiled when he saw you three. He started walking, leading you to wherever he was taking you. “I ought to be doing you guys a favor, not the other way around. Dean, Y/N and your dad really helped me out.”
“Yeah, he told me. It was a poltergeist?” Sam wondered, following Jerry.
“Damn right it was a poltergeist, practically tore our house apart. Tell you something, if it wasn't for you guys, I probably wouldn't be alive. Your dad said you were off at college. Is that right?”
“Yeah, I was. I’m taking some time off.” Sam said hesitantly. No one needed to know what really happened.
“Well, he was real proud of you; I could tell. He talked about you all the time.” Jerry smiled.
“He did?” You looked at Sam when he made eye contact with you and you nodded.
“Yeah, you bet he did. Oh, hey, you know I tried to get a hold of him, but I couldn't. How's he doing, anyway?” Jerry wondered. You bit your lip and answered for Dean who had a hard time answering.
“He’s wrapped up in a case right now. You know how he can get.” You chuckled nervously, looking at Dean.
“Well, we're missing the old man, but we get Sam. Even trade, huh?” You smiled and walked past probably a dozen airplanes. You watched as people worked on their engines or filled them up with gas.
“No, not by a long shot.” Sam argued.
“I got something I want you guys to hear.” You frowned a bit and followed Jerry into his office. You closed the door after you since you were the last one in and watched as Jerry went around to his desk where a CD recorder machine was. Sam and Dean took seats by his desk but you stood by the door, waiting and listening.
“I listened to this and, well, it sounded like it was up your alley.” Jerry said, putting in a CD into the machine. “Normally I wouldn't have access to this. It's the cockpit voice recorder for United Britannia flight 2485. It was one of ours.” He pressed play.
Mayday! Mayday! Repeat! This is United Britania 2485—immediate instruction help! United Britanis 2485, I copy your message—May be experiencing some mechanical failure...
There is a loud whooshing/growling sound and the tape ended. You frowned, wondering where that noise was familiar. It wasn’t human, you knew that for sure.
“It took off from here, crashed about two hundred miles south. Now, they're saying mechanical failure; cabin depressurized somehow. There was over a hundred people on board; only seven got out alive and the pilot was one. His name is Chuck Lambert and a good friend of mine. Chuck is, uh... well, he's pretty broken up about it, like it was his fault.” Jerry sighed.
“You don’t think it was?” Sam asked.
“No, I don’t.”
“Jerry, we’re going to need passenger manifests, um, and a list of survivors.” Sam counted off his fingers.
“Alright.” Jerry shrugged.
“Any way we can take a look at the wreckage?” Dean asked.
“The other stuff is no problem. But the wreckage... fellas, the NTSB has it locked down in an evidence warehouse. No way I've got that kind of clearance.”
“That’s not a problem.” You spoke up, smirking slightly. You had ways to get in and out without anyone noticing. Fake it till you make it.
“Yeah, I appreciate your help.” Dean got up, Sam following him.
“Yeah, let me know if there is anything that I can do for you.” Jerry walked to the door of his office and opened it for you, letting you walk out first. You knew just where to go for this sort of problem. You and Dean had a lot of fake badges but you would need something a little more convincing if you wanted to look at the wreckage.
That is why you were inside a place called Copy Jack, making badges for you, Sam and Dean. You thought it was time that Sam got his own badge instead of using one that didn’t even have the correct picture on it.
You were in there pretty long but you had to make sure this was right because if you were caught, that was game over for you. You finally held up 3 shiny new badges and smiled to yourself, feeling proud of your work. You paid for using the machines and walked back out to the car.
“You've been in there forever.” Sam complained.
“Can’t rush perfection.” You grinned, holding up the three badges. You handed one to Dean and one to Sam, each with their own picture and name. Of course, it had to be a different name. You couldn’t go a parade the name Winchester when you were dealing with monsters or the law.
“Homeland Security?” Sam looked at the one made for him. “That’s pretty illegal, even for us.”
“No, that’s illegal for you. Dean and I, on the other hand, have had it way worse. But that was when John made our badges for us.” You smiled and got inside the car, looking between the boys.
“Alright, so what do you got?” Dean asked Sam.
“Well, there's definitely EVP on the cockpit voice recorder,” Sam said, taking out his laptop. “Listen.” He pressed play and you listened intently.
NO SURVIVORS! It sounded like an old woman that had a scratchy voice.
“No survivors? What's that supposed to mean? There were seven survivors.” Dean said.
“You got me.” Sam shrugged.
“So what are you thinking? A haunted flight?” Dean wondered. If there were seven survivors, and the recording is saying no survivors, maybe there was something to it that you didn’t know.
“There's a long history of spirits and death omens on planes and ships, like phantom travelers,” Sam explained. “Maybe we got a similar deal here.”
“Alright, sweetheart, survivors, which one do you want to talk to first?” Dean looked back at you.
“Third on the list, Max Jaffey.” You looked at the list in your hand.
“Why him?” Dean asked, staring the car. He wasn’t going to argue with you because if you said his name, then he would be questioned first but he was curious.
“Well, for one, he's from around here. And two, if anyone saw anything weird, he did.” You stated.
“What makes you say that?” Sam asked.
“Well, I spoke to his mother while I was inside Copy Jack and she told me where to find him. It’ll make sense once we get there. Take this road and follow it all the way through until you reach Bakersfield and make a right. You’ll know when you see it.” Dean nodded at your instructions and took off, following exactly what you said.
“Oh yeah, you weren’t kidding.” Sam muttered when he saw a sign that said, ‘RIVERFRONT PSYCHIATRIC HOSPITAL’.
“Told you.” You smirked to yourself and got out when Dean parked, walking up to the gate. With one flash of your badge, the men opened it, letting you and the Winchesters through to the main building.
Part Two
Masterlist // Series Rewrite Masterlist
Series Rewrite tags:
@helllonearth @amyisabellal @deanwnchstr @caseykitten6 @roxalya19
Forever tags:
@love-like-lies @maddieburcham1 @ginamsmith @mogaruke @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes 
Dean tags:
@akshi8278 @mega-mrs-dean-winchester​ @winchesterandpie​
Other tags:
@jensen-jarpad @jpadjackles @notnaturalanahi @mysteriouslyme81@deathtonormalcy56 @27bmm
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chorusfm · 6 years ago
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Emo Nite Day Lineup Announced
Emo Nite LA recently announced their second annual Emo Nite Day lineup. The full press release can be found below. Emo Nite LA recently announced their 2nd Annual Emo Nite Day Lineup and pulled out all the stops. Festival-goers were treated with the recent announce that the one and only Travis Barker (Blink-182) would finally be joining the Emo Nite family for a special DJ Set. Other full band performances from artists like All Time Low, Dashboard Confessional, Mayday Parade, 3OH!3 (Performing WANT in its entirety), Boyfriendz x Gothboiclique, Scotty Sire and Saphir are set to keep the nite alive along with DJ Sets from Captain Cuts, GNASH, Ham on Everything and more. The second annual full-day festival will take place on October 13th at Shrine Expo Hall + Grounds and tickets are on sale now at emoniteday.com. Emo Nite LA, the event started by three friends (Babs Szabo, T.J. Petracca and Morgan Freed) at a small dive bar has grown into a full-blown phenomenon. They have been able to bring together some of the most incredible names in music who have become part of this Emo Nite “family”, including Halsey, Sonny Moore (Skrillex) and From First to Last, The Used, Post Malone, Good Charlotte, All American Rejects, Demi Lovato, New Found Glory, and so many more. They have been able to throw regular events in dozens of markets across the country and have had spots on lineups at festivals like Life is Beautiful, Slam Dunk, BUKU and Vans Warped Tour. In addition to these events, the Emo Nite founders have created successful clothing collabs with companies like OBEY, Urban Outfitters, PLEASURES, Rose in Good Faith, Chinatown Market, OWSLA and more. But above all else, Emo Nite LA brings together people who share the love of emo rock music from the 90’s, 2000’s, and today, changing the idea of what a music event can be. “We’re so lucky to have such a strong and of supportive community of people that have grown with us over the last few years and continue to trust us to deliver meaningful and unique experiences with our events” shared the trio of founders. Recently, it was announced that 3OH!3 and Emo Nite LA would be joining together to present a tour like no other – The WANT House Party Tour!!! Featuring special guest lil aaron, these shows are going to be an actual house party. Fans are going to be able to be a part of each night without the typical constraints of set times and with an opportunity to really interact and connect with artists, just as if you were throwing this party in your own living room. Nathaniel Motte and Sean Foreman of 3OH!3 shared that “We want to include people from different backgrounds, walks of life and foster an environment that breaks down the barrier between the artist and fans. We want to be able to throw a party, celebrating 10 years of WANT and bring the unique energy of Emo Nite along with the energy we have always had.” Tickets are on sale now with a full list of tour dates below. --- Please consider supporting us so we can keep bringing you stories like this one. ◎ https://chorus.fm/news/emo-nite-day-lineup-announced/
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runawaycarouselhorse · 1 year ago
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One year anniversary of Faraway Place, the casual (dressing room/sandbox) dreamwidth roleplaying game I play (or previously played)... all of the characters in that first image in (Buson/Attila, Lillie, Iris, Trip, Fuji Ai/Amber Fuji, and Mairin who trippped and will be taking others down with her in seconds), followed by drawings of a bunch of characters I play with frequently. ;3;
(Gold featured twice in the second row, fff.)
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bthenoise · 6 years ago
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Quit Complaining: Here Are 8 Old-School Bands Playing This Summer’s Vans Warped Tour That Will Totally Take You Back
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Alright, you turds. We’ve read the tweets, we’ve seen the comments and now we’re ready to put you all in your place regarding this summer’s last ever cross-country Vans Warped Tour which is officially less than three weeks away.
For all those who think there aren’t enough old-school bands on this year’s bill, you’re wrong. Dead wrong. 
Whether you’re looking to relive the good ol’ days and bring back your Myspace top 8 or you just want to see some bands you haven’t seen in a pretty long time, these are the eight artists that NEED to be on your daily Warped Tour schedule. To check out our list, be sure to look below. Afterward, make sure to grab tickets to the final full cross country Vans Warped Tour here.
NOTE: We only included band’s playing most of the tour. So don’t give us shit about not including Underoath, The Used, Taking Back Sunday, Sum 41, Story Of The Year, Less Than Jake, Pennywise, Bowling For Soup, Silverstein and more.  
Simple Plan
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Simple Plan has played the Vans Warped Tour 11 different times. Think about that for a second. In the 19 years they’ve been a band, 11 of them included stops on Warped Tour. Still don’t think that’s crazy enough? Consider this: This is the 24th year of the Vans Warped Tour. Meaning, for all you non-math majors, Simple Plan has played almost 50% of all the Vans Warped Tours. Talk about Warped veterans.  
We The Kings
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After exploding onto the scene back in 2007 with their breakout self-titled release, emo pop-rockers We The Kings will be bringing back memories of your middle school crush eleven years later with songs like “Secret Valentine,” “Skyway Avenue” and of course, “Check Yes Juliet.” 
Every Time I Die
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If we had a dollar for every time we’ve been elbowed in the face during an Every Time I Die pit at the Vans Warped Tour, we’d be pretty close to paying off that nose surgery we got back in 2016 (don’t ask). In all seriousness though, Every Time I Die is the epitome of Warped Tour with their hard-working mentality, not-so-serious attitude, play-with-any-band mindset, and profound longevity.   
Senses Fail
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Serving as one of the few remaining bands to survive the screamo boom of the mid-2000′s, Senses Fail’s stint on this year’s Vans Warped Tour should be a definite must-see. Playing tracks from their recent LP If There Is Light, It Will Find You all the way back to 2004′s Let It Unfold You, both you and your middle-school self will be ecstatic to see Buddy Nelson on the Warped stage one last time. 
The Maine
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With their debut album Can’t Stop Won’t Stop barley turning 10 this summer, we understand its hard to consider The Maine “old-school.” However, when looking at their pop-punk contemporaries also playing Warped this year (State Champs, Real Friends, Waterparks, etc.) there’s no denying The Maine and their decade-long tenure have influenced a majority of them in one way or another.   
Reel Big Fish
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Alright, there’s no debating Reel Big Fish’s Warped supremacy. With their very first Warped Tour dating back to 1997, Reel Big Fish is essentially one of two Warped ska bands (Less Than Jake being the other) to survive the ska-pocalypse of the late 2000′s. Aaron Barrett and co. are playing the entire tour this year and should be given a medal at the end of the summer.    
Mayday Parade
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Okay, so we know what you’re thinking but hear us out. Similar to The Maine, Mayday Parade’s debut album has barely reached the decade mark. However, with their sixth full-length album on the way, these pop-rock vets have found a way to remain relevant while also making fans feel nostalgic every time they play the hits like “Jamie All Over” and “Miserable At Best.” 
3OH!3
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Helping represent an entire era of the late 2000′s that saw things like crunkcore and shutter shade sunglasses exist (don’t act like you didn’t have a pair), if 3OH!3 doesn’t make you feel the least bit nostalgic, you’re most likely dead inside. For the lucky folk who get to see Sean Foreman and Nat Motte this summer, get ready to be teleported back to 2008.   
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