Tragedy ° DEAN WINCHESTER

viii. | sulfur leads to demonic possession

Next thing Emery knew, she was piled into the car, listening to Metallica as they drove across the States.

They arrived at where they were needed and Emery recognized the male that had given them the case, though a name didn't pop into mind.

"Thanks for making the trip so quick," he stated as they walked through his workplace. "I oughta do you three a favour, not the other way around. Dean, Emery and your dad really helped me out."

"Yeah, he told me," Sam said, glancing back at a worker. "A poltergeist."

"Poltergeist? Man, I love that movie!" A guy yelled and Emery smiled, flashing a thumbs up in that direction.

"Nobody's talking to you," Jerry said, Emery remembering his name suddenly. "Keep walking!" He turned back to the three hunters. "Damn right it was a poltergeist! It practically tore our house apart. Tell you something, if it wasn't for you, your girl, and your dad, I probably wouldn't be alive."

"I don't– I mean– we're not dating," Emery stuttered, cheeks flaring up into a blush. Jerry raised an eyebrow at her, Emery shaking her head.

"Your dad said you were off at college, that right?" Jerry asked, now ignoring the flushed girl.

"Yeah, I was," Sam said. "I'm taking some time off."

"Yeah, he was real proud of you, I could tell," Emery cringed as Jerry said the words.

Dean had always been jealous of Sam and the fact that he got to get out of this life. Bit more importantly, he was jealous of the attention Sam got from John. It was easy to tell Sam was John's favourite and the only reason Dean followed every instruction was so that John would realize that Dean actually wanted his affection. Not some order with the words 'hunt' or 'get on this case' in it.

All in all, it was a touchy subject for the three hunters.

Sam looked baffled as Emery took Dean's calloused hand in her's before giving it a comforting squeeze.

"Talked about you all the time," Jerry explained further, and Dean squeezed Emery's hand back before letting it go all together.

"He did?" Sam questioned further.

"Yeah, you bet he did," Jerry said, and Emery looked at the plane beside them and smiled as they walked. "Hey, I tried to get ahold of him but I couldn't, how's he doing anyway?"

"He's um–" Dean tried to find the words, "wrapped up in a job."

He's hunting, you idjits! Emery wanted to scream. He's hunting the thing that killed your mom!

"Well, we're missing the old man, we get Sam, even trade," Emery rolled her eyes. No offence to Sam, but he's a little bit out of practice.

"No, not by a long shot," Sam interrupted Jerry and Dean's chuckles.

"I have something that I want you guys to hear," Jerry became serious before leading the group into his office.

They all took a seat, Jerry putting a disk into his computer, explaining how he listened to it and realized that it was up the hunters' alley.

Emery closed her eyes as the recording came on, concentrating on what it was saying.

"Mayday! Mayday!" A staticky voice said. The voices got more staticky, before they disappeared completely and a whirring noise came into the recording. Emery's eyes opened, her eyebrows raising as she looked between Sam and Dean.

"Took off from here, crashed about two hundred miles south," Jerry explained. "Now, they're saying mechanical failure. The cabin depressurized somehow, nobody know's why. Over one hundred people on board, only seven came out alive, the pilot was one. He name is Chuck Lambert, he's a good friend of mine. Chuck is a–" Jerry glanced down at his desk, before looking at the three hunters again. "Well, he's pretty broken up about it. Like it was his fault."