[Death Takes a Holiday]
BISON BUD'S BAR
Two men, Jim Jenkins and Pete Hensley, left the bar as they spoke.
"Okay, okay, now, come on, you tell me - now why kick that field goal?" Jim asked.
"Because it's called football," Pete replied.
"No, it's called fantasy football, and those three points screwed me."
"Seriously, Jim, you need to get a life."
Jim and Pete rounded the corner and were met by a young man.
"Hey, guys, you got any change?" The young man asked.
"Sorry, pal," Jim replied.
The young man pulled a gun and pointed it at Jim and Pete. "How about your wallets?"
A bar employee at the dumpster took notice.
"No problem," Pete said.
"Take it easy, all right?" Jim told him.
"Just give me the wallets!" The young man cried.
"Hold on, man."
The young man fired, hitting Jim in the heart and Jim fell.
"Jim!" Pete yelled.
The young man ran and Pete dropped to his knees next to Jim.
"Jim! Jim!" Pete called, looking up at the employee. "Call 911! Now!" The employee ran.
Pete did chest compressions, then breathed into Jim's mouth. "Come on." He did more chest compressions, then went to repeat the breaths.
Jim began breathing on his own and greeted, "Hey."
"Don't move. Don't move, man." He helped Jim sit up.
"I feel okay." He pulled open his shirt far enough to reveal the bullet hole, with powder marks, but no blood.
"You're not even bleeding."
Jim looked up. "Give me a hand."
Pete helped Jim stand. "How you even alive right now?"
"I don't know."
DINER
Dean tapped a button on the jukebox, then thumped the jukebox while Francesca stood next to him with a bored look. Sam was at the table, laptop open, talking on the phone.
"No, no, no, you're right, it's definitely weird..." Sam said. "...Okay, Bobby, thanks."
Sam put the phone away and his brother and friend came over.
"What's up?" Dean asked as he and Francesca sat down.
Sam started typing. "Bobby found something in Wyoming."
"A job?" Francesca questioned.
"Maybe." Dean bit into a burger and Francesca stabbed her fries with a fork. "Small town, no one's died in the past week-and-a-half."
"That so unusual?" Dean wondered.
"One guy with terminal cancer strolls right out of hospice. Another guy gets capped by a mugger and walks away without a scratch."
"Capped in the ass?"
Sam's browser had two tabs open to the Greybull Gazette. One was about the shooting victim that'd walked away unharmed and the other was about a man who'd miraculously survived a direct shot to the heart.
Sam glanced between his brother and friend. "Police say Mr. Jenkins was shot in the heart at point-blank range by a nine-millimeter."
Dean kept eating and Francesca replied, "And he's not a doughnut?"
"Locals are saying it's a miracle."
"Okay," Dean and Francesca said.
"It's got to be something nasty, right? I mean, people are making deals or something."
Dean and Francesca considered his words before the former asked, "You think?"
"What else would it be?"
Francesca shrugged. "I don't know, and clearly Sam doesn't either."
"All right." He put his laptop in his bag. "Get that to go."
Dean looked down and didn't move.
"Come on," Sam and Francesca told him.
Sam stood and picked up his bag. Francesca grabbed her jacket and bag. Dean didn't move except to chew. Sam looked at him, swinging his bag over his shoulder. "What?"
Dean looked up and kept chewing, then glanced away and back and said, "Sure you want me going with you and Frankie?"
"Why wouldn't I?"
"I don't want to be holding you back or nothing."
"Dude, Frankie and I've told you a hundred times, that was the siren talking, not me. Can we get past this?"
Dean put down the burger. "Yeah, we're past it." He brushed off his hands.
Francesca glanced at Dean and smiled lightly. "I didn't mean what I said, Dee. Well, I did about Ty. Bastardo took advantage of me when I vulnerable."
Dean nodded. "I know, Frankie. Dick move."
"Majorly."
JENKINS' HOUSE
The trio were sitting with Jim in the dining room.
"Now, you three said you were bloggers?" Jim asked, sitting across from Sam.
"Yes, sir," Sam replied. "Floored by the Lord dot com."
"All of God's glory fit to blog," Dean added while Francesca nodded, attempting to keep a straight face.
Dean grinned and Francesca smiled.
Sam glanced at his brother and friend and cleared his throat. "Um. Some of the people around town are saying what happened to you was a miracle."
"It was," Jim answered. "Plain as day."
"How can you be so sure?"
"How else do you explain it? The doctors can't."
"There's a bullet in my heart, and it's pumping like a piston."
"Well, how do you explain it?" Dean questioned.
Jim hesitated and looked at his daughter. "Look, honestly. I was nobody's saint - not exactly father of the year, either."
"Okay."
"But when that guy shot me and I didn't bleed a drop? I just knew the Lord was giving me a second chance."
Francesca raised a brow. "Is that so?"
"I had this feeling - like angels were watching over me." Jim paused and Dean and Francesca nodded. "I wouldn't expect you guys and lady to understand."
"Well, we'll just have to try," Dean said.
"You wouldn't have happened to have swung by a crossroads in the past week or so?" Sam asked.
Jim frowned, confused. "No."
"Maybe you met someone? With black eyes? Or red?"
Jim leaned forward. "Who'd you say you guys were again?"
Dean glanced at Sam and Francesca. "Never mind. Thank you for your time." He got up and his brother and friend followed.
MOTEL ROOM
Dean was sitting at a table reading the laptop and Francesca was perusing books.
Sam opened the door and entered. "Hey." He closed the door and his brother and friend looked up.
"Anything?" Dean and Francesca asked.
Sam walked over to them. "That cancer survivor? He was clinically dead, his wife pulled the plug, and now he's taking her out for their 20th anniversary."
"Any sign of a deal?" Dean questioned.
"No. What about you two? Found anyone dying around here?"
"Not since Cole Griffith," Francesca replied, taking the laptop from Dean and clicking on the picture of Cole. "He dropped ten days ago. It was the last death we could find."
"So, what are you two thinking?"
"Eh, maybe it is what the people say it is," Dean said as he and Francesca stood.
Sam went to the laptop and scoffed. "Miracles? Dean, Frankie, our experience, when do miracles just happen?"
"Well, there's no deals. There's, uh, no sleepy faith healers." He poured a cup of coffee. "I mean, these souls just ain't getting dragged into the light."
Sam took a moment to think. "Maybe 'cause there's no one around to carry them."
Dean came back over as Francesca asked, "What do you mean?"
"Well, then, let's talk to somebody who might."
Dean frowned. "Well, last Frankie and I checked, Huggy Bear ain't available."
"No, man, the kid."
"The kid? The kid's a doornail."
"Exactly. Look, if he was the last person to die around here, then maybe he's seen something. We should talk to him."
"I love how matter-of-fact you are about that. Judging from Frankie's look, she does too. Strange lives." He drank more coffee.
CEMETERY
Sam, Dean and Francesca were at a gravestone engraved 'Beloved Son Cole Griffith 1997-2009 Forever In Our Memories'. Five candles were arranged around a pentacle drawn on a cloth spread over the grace. Sam put a bundle of stick in the center of the pentacle. Dean and Francesca were sitting on two other gravestones.
Dean flipped through John's journal. "You sure this is gonna work?"
Sam looked up. "No. But if his spirit's around, this should smoke him out."
He poured something into a bowl and Dean closed the journal.
"What?" Sam asked, seeing his brother and friend's faces.
"This job is jacked, that's what," Dean commented.
"How so?"
Francesca slipped off the gravestone. "You want us to gank a monster or torch a corpse, hey, let's light it up, huh? But this? If we fix whatever the hell this is, people are gonna start dropping dead. Good people."
Sam stood. "Look, I don't want them to die, either, Dean, Frankie, but there's a natural order."
"You're kidding, right?" Dean asked.
"What?"
"You don't see the irony in that? I mean, you, me and Frankie, we're like the poster boys and girl of the unnatural order. All we do is ditch death. Though Frankie hasn't died as far as I know."
"Yeah, but the normal rules don't really apply to us, do they?" Sam said, glancing between them.
Dean and Francesca stared as he said, "We're no different than anybody else."
"I'm infected with demon blood. You've been to Hell. Frankie kills monsters alongside us." Dean and Francesca looked away. "Look, I know you want to think of yourselves as Joe the Plumber or Jane the secretary, Dean, Frankie, but you two aren't. Neither am I. The sooner you two accept that, the better off you're gonna be."
Dean looked up. "Ah, Joe the Plumber was a douche."
Francesca pursed her lips and looked away.
"You two gonna help me finish this?" Sam questioned.
Dean and Francesca stood.
"Hey!" a man called.
Sam, Dean and Francesca looked towards the voice; it was a man carrying a flashlight.
"What are you doing here?" the man demanded.
"Uh-" Sam began, glancing at his brother and friend. "Just take it easy."
"What the hell is this?"
"Okay, this-this-this is not what it looks like," Francesca told the man as she smiled lightly.
"Really? 'Cause it looks like devil worship."
"What? No!" Dean exclaimed. "No, this is not devil worship. This-This is-this-this is, uh-" He gave up. "I don't have a good answer."
"We're leaving," Sam told the man.
"You're not going anywhere," the man said.
Sam frowned and the man took a step forward as he added, "Ever again. Sam."
The man looked at Dean and his eyes went white.
"Alastair," Dean realized as Alastair's eyes reverted back to human. "I thought you got deep fried, extra-crispy."
"Nah. Just the pediatrician I was riding. His wife's still looking for him. It's hilarious. Anyway." He looked at Sam, who was fuming. "No time to chat. Got a hot date with death."
Alastair flicked his hand. Dean and Francesca went flying across the graveyard and he collided with the gravestone of someone named Myth, 1957-2001. Francesca collided with the gravestone of someone named Lilac 1973-1998.
"Dean! Frankie!" Sam cried.
Alastair turned back to Sam and flicked his hand. Nothing happened. Alastair tried again and Sam smirked.
"You're stronger, Sam," Alastair commented. "You've been solo flexing with your little slut?"
"You have no idea."
Sam flicked his hand and Alastair went flying. Sam raised a hand to exorcise him. Alastair fleed the man's body. Sam dropped his hand, surprised, and watched the smoke vanish.
MOTEL ROOM
Dean and Francesca were lying on the bed, both holding an ice pack to their heads. Sam opened the door and came in.
"How you two doing?" Sam asked.
"We're in pain, that's how we're doing," Dean said. "Frankie and I think we have a concussion."
"Oh. I'm absolutely wonderful," Francesca mumbled. "How are you?"
"You two want some aspirin?" Sam questioned.
Dean sat up. "No thanks, House. So, demons, huh?"
"Yeah. So much for miracles."
Francesca also sat up and asked, "And what the hell happened with Alastair again?"
"I told you two, he tried to fling me or whatever." He flicked his hand in demonstration as he walked to the coffeemaker. "And it didn't work, so he bailed."
Dean frowned. "Well, how come he couldn't fling you? He chucked you pretty good last time."
Sam turned to face Dean and Francesca and paused before answering. "Got no idea." He turned back to the coffeemaker, then back to France as she spoke.
"Sam, do us a favor," Francesca said. "If you're gonna keep your little secrets, we can't really stop you, but just don't treat us like idiots, okay?"
"What? Dean, Frankie, I'm not keeping secrets."
"Mm-hmm," Dean hummed. "Whatever. So, did you go back and q-and-a the dead kid?"
Sam walked over to the other bed and held up a thin notebook. "Didn't have to. Bobby called. He did some digging."
"And?" Dean and Francesca pressed.
"They think I'm right. Local reaper's gone. Not just gone-kidnapped."
"By demons?" Dean asked. "Why?"
"Listen to this." He read rom the notebook. ""And he bloodied death under the newborn sky-sweet to taste, but bitter when once devoured.""
"Swanky. What the hell's that mean?"
"Well, it's from a very obscure, very arcane version of Revelations."
"Which means what I think it means?"
"Basically, you kill a reaper under the solstice moon - tomorrow night, by the way - you got yourself a broken seal."
"How do you ice a reaper?" Francesca questioned. "You can't kill death."
"I don't know. Maybe demons can. Where the hell are the angels is what I want to know. We could use their help for once."
"It looks like we're gonna have to take care of this one ourselves."
"What are we gonna do, just swing in and save the friendly neighborhood reaper?"
"You got a better idea, Frankie and I are all ears," Dean said.
"Dean, Frankie, reapers are invisible. The only people that can see them are the dead and the dying."
"Well, if ghosts are the only ones that can see them..."
"Yeah?"
"Then we become ghosts." He put the icepack back to his head and smirked.
"Dean, are you sure you don't have a concussion?" Sam wondered.
"Nope. Sounds crazy, I know."
"It is crazy." Dean smirked more. "How?"
Francesca shrugged. "Dumb but fun. I'm in."
Later, there was a knock on the door.
Sam opened it, letting Pamela and Dean, who was behind her, entered.
"I can't even begin to tell you how crazy you three are," Pamela said as she felt the counter, then the chair.
"Well, Pamela, you're a sight for sore eyes," Sam told her as he closed the door.
Pamela turned around and lowered her sunglasses far enough to reveal white plastic eyes. "Aw, that's sweet, grumpy." She put her sunglasses back on. "What do you say to deaf people?"
Dean looked down, Francesca's brow was furrowed, and Sam looked uncomfortable.
"Which of you brainiacs came up with astral projection?"
Dean raised his hand. "Yo."
"Of course. Chachi."
Dean turned to Sam and Francesca and mouthed, 'Chachi?' Sam and Francesca shrugged.
"So let's be clear. You want to rip your souls out of your bodies and take a little stroll through the spirit world?"
"Mm-hmm," Dean hummed as Pamela crossed her arms. "Maybe, but that's where the reaper is, so..."
"So, it's nuts."
"Not if you know what you're doing."
"You don't know what you're doing."
"No, but you do."
"Yeah, I do. And guess what? I'm sick of being hauled back into your angel-demon, Soc-Greaser crap."
"Look, I'd love to be kicking back with a cold one, watching Judge Judy, too."
"Nice. More blind jokes?"
"You know what I mean. We're talking the end of the world here, okay? No more tasseled leather pants, no more Ramones CDs, no more nothing."
Francesca looked at Pamela with silent pleading eyes as Dean said, "We need your help."
LATER
Sam closed the curtains. Dean flicked closed a lighter and dropped it on the table next to some of the several candles burning around the door. Francesca brought one of the candles over to a bedside table, shielding the flame with one hand.
Pamela, who was sitting on a chair between the beds, said, "Tell me something, geniuses. Even if you do break into the veil and you find the reaper, how you gonna save it?"
Sam closed the curtains on another window as Dean replied, "With style and class."
"You're gonna be three walking pieces of fog who can't touch or move anything. You'll be defenseless, hotshot."
"I seem to recall a bunch of ghosts beating the crap out of us," Sam reminded them.
"Yeah, well, they had plenty of time to practice."
"Well, then, I guess we got to start cramming," Francesca decided.
"Wow, a few heroes. All right." She patted one of the beds. "Lie down. Close your eyes."
LATER
Sam, Dean and Francesca were lying on the beds, Sam diagonally and Francesca curled up next to Dean with her head on his chest.
Pamela spoke the spell. "Aninum vult decipi, ergo deciipiatur. Vis, vis, vis. Okay, guys, girl. That's it. Showtime."
Dean sat up as the room went from full color to blue and looked at Pamela. "Well, nothing like shooting blanks. What's plan B?"
Pamela didn't hear him. Dean looked at Sam lying on the other bed, then over one shoulder at Sam and Francesca , standing. Sam spread his hands and Francesca pocketed her hands. Dean looked over his other shoulder at himself and Francesca, unconscious on the bed.
"Oh, I'm so feeling up Demi Moore," Dean commented. "You look comfy, Frankie."
Francesca's cheeks flushed as she muttered, "Shut up."
"All right, so, I'm assuming you're somewhere over the rainbow. Remember, I have to bring you back," Pamela told them as she stood and went over to Sam. Dean and Francesca watched her.
"I'll whisper the incantation in your ear." She leaned over Sam. "You have got a great ass." Sam grinned.
"What'd she-" Dean and Francesca began, looking at Sam. "What'd she say?" Sam shrugged.
STREET
Sam, Dean and Francesca walked along the street and looked around. Everything was shaded in blue. A car went past. A jogger went right through Sam without noticed. Dean and Francesca laughed and watched her go. Dean and Francesca turned back to Sam.
"That was wild," Dean said.
Sam looked at them incredulously. Dean stuck his arm into Sam's chest up to the elbow and stuck his other arm through Francesca's abdomen.
Sam and Francesca looked down at hin, then up at his him with a stony expression.
"Am I making you two uncomfortable?" Dean asked.
"Get out of me," Sam and Francesca demanded.
Dean pulled his arm back as he replied. "You're such a prude. Not you, Frankie. Definitely not a prude. Come on."
Dean kept going and Sam and Francesca followed.
ANOTHER STREET
Dean, Sam and Francesca crossed the street, breath visible in the cold.
"Oh, man, we've been spooking this town for hours," Dean said. "No demons, no black smoke. I say we hit Victoria's Secret and get our peep on, huh?"
Francesca stared at Dean with a disgusted look. "Sometimes I wonder why I decided to be friends with you."
Sam looked up and to the right. "Hey. Three o'clock. Kid in the window."
Dean and Francesca looked up. The kid was looking out an upstairs window at the trio.
"Am I crazy or is he looking at us?" Sam asked.
"It's 'cause we've seen him before," Francesca said.
"We have?"
"Newspaper. Cole Griffith, the last person to die in this town," Dean told him.
Cole flickered and vanished. Dean, Sam and Francesca looked at each other.
COLE'S HOUSE - COLE'S ROOM
Mrs. Griffith opened the door, entered, and looked around. "Cole?" She wrapped her bathrobe tighter. "It's Mom. Your dad thinks I'm crazy. Are you here? A picture frame fell over. I could have sworn it was you, baby. Are you still here with me?"
A soccer ball was sitting on the dresser. It started spinning. Mrs. Griffith stared. The ball flew past Mrs. Griffith and bounced off the door.
Mrs. Griffith put her hands to her head. "Oh, my God!"
She left the room, going through Dean, Sam and Francesca. Cole was standing by the dresser and threw more balls. Francesca ducked as one whizzed past her hair, making a strand hit her face.
"Stop!" Dean yelled. "How are you doing that?"
"Who are you?" Cole asked.
"Relax, Cole. It's okay," Sam reassured.
"How do you know my name?"
"Look, this isn't gonna be easy to hear, but... you're - dead. You're a spirit. Us too." Dean and Francesca glanced at him.
"Yeah, thanks, Haley Joel. I know I'm dead. What do you want?"
"We just want to talk."
"About what?"
KITCHEN
Mrs. Griffith poured herself a glass of vodka and took a sip. Cole was leaning on the wall watching her. Dean, Sam and Francesca were sitting at the dining room table watching him.
"I was outside all morning," Cole said as he turned around. "They tell you to be careful when it's cold."
"Cold air can cause an asthma attack?" Dean questioned.
Cole nodded and shrugged. "But then I was in my room. It happened so fast. I called out for my mom, but nothing came out. Everything started spinning, and then I was just standing there, looking down at my body." He leaned on the table.
"And that's when you saw the man?" Sam asked.
"Creepy old guy in a black suit. He wanted me to go with him, but..." he looked back at his mom. "I didn't want to go."
"Reaper." Dean and Francesca nodded. "How'd you get rid of him?"
"I didn't. The black smoke did."
"Black smoke?" Dean repeated.
"It was everywhere. I hid in the closet, and when I came out, it was gone, and so was he."
Francesca leaned forward. "Do you know where the smoke went?"
"No. But I know where it is."
The lights began flickering, causing Cole to jump, Dean and Francesca to look up, and Mrs. Griffith to look around.
"They're back," Cole told them.
"Who?" Dean and Francesca wondered.
Cole vanished. Dean, Sam and Francesca looked around. A blast of wind hit them in the face. Something white and human-shaped went through the room and up the stairs.
"Another reaper," Sam realized.
"Hey!" Dean called. "Hey! Wait! We need to talk to you!"
Sam, Dean and Francesca stared. A woman descended the stairs; it was Tessa.
"Dean," Tessa said.
Sam and Francesca glanced at their brother/friend, who was confused.
"Do I know you?" Dean asked.
"We go way back."
Tessa went into the kitchen, followed by the three, and turned around. "You don't remember me?"
"Honestly, if I had a nickel for every time I heard a girl say that... You're gonna have to freshen my memory."
Tessa stepped forward, reached up, and pulled Dean into a kiss.
Dean watched her a moment. "Tessa."
"That's one of my names, yeah."
"So, you do know her," Sam said.
"From the hospital after the accident," Dean answered.
"The accident with Dad?" Sam questioned as his brother nodded. "So, this is the reaper that came after you."
"Yeah."
Tessa turned to look at Sam. "Well, this was fun." She turned back to Dean. "Now, if you'll excuse me-" She moved to turn away and Dean stopped her.
"Wait, wait, wait, wait, you can't - you can't take the kid," Dean said.
"Why?"
"Demons are in town, that's why. They've already snatched your reaper pal. The kid knows where."
"So?"
"So, you should shag ass," Sam answered. "For all we know, they could try and snatch you, too."
"Except that this town is off the rails."
Mrs. Griffith came from the dining room, picked something off a side table, put up her hair, and left. Sam watched her.
Tessa continued. "And someone has to set it straight."
"Yeah, we understand that, but these are special circumstances," Francesca replied.
"What? Your whole angel-demon dance-off? I could care less. I just want to do my job."
"Right, yeah, and, look, we want to help you do your job," Sam said. "So, if you would just bail town-"
"No."
"Well, them could you hold off until we fix this? Please?" Dean asked.
Tessa sighed. "All right, but just so we're clear, when I start reaping again, I'm starting with the kid."
"Understood," Sam agreed. "I'll find him." He turned to go upstairs.
"Wait, wait, wait, wait," Dean called. "What-" Sam turned back. "What are you gonna say to him?"
"Whatever I have to."
Sam left. Dean, Tessa and Francesca watched him go.
COLE'S ROOM
Sam entered the room and looked around. He sat next to the open closet when Cole was just visible inside and said, "This all must be pretty overwhelming, huh? Pretty scary, too."
"The worst is my mom," Cole answered.
"Must be hard seeing her like this."
Cole leaned out of the shadow. "She's always coming in here, talking to me, telling me how sad she is. I knock some stuff over to let her know I'm here, but... she only gets sadder."
Sam laughed a little. "Well, you might want to ease up on the flying soccer balls."
"I'm not telling you where the smoke is."
Sam thought for a moment. "Hey. What if I told you that if you helped me, you would have to leave here? Ever?"
"What about the one downstairs?"
"Tessa? Oh, she wouldn't bother you. No reaper would. You could just stay here with your family for as long as you wanted."
"You can do that?"
"Yeah, you bet I can do that."
"You swear?"
Sam hesitated. "I swear."
KITCHEN
"I'll tell you two, life is funny," Tessa said.
"What do you mean?" Dean questioned.
"You and me, together again, your friend along for the ride."
"Are you - are you making a move on me? Or her? Don't make a move on her."
Tessa shook her head. "You're the one that got away, Dean. You'd be surprised how little that happens to me."
"Can I tell you something between you and me?"
Tessa looked at him. "Who am I gonna tell? I don't think Francesca will tell your secrets."
Dean nodded. "After our little, uh, experience... for that whole year, I felt like I had this... hole in my gut... like I was missing something. I didn't know what. Do you know what it was?" Tessa listened. "It was you. The pain of losing my father and Sammy. I just... I wish I had gone with you for good. But I guess things are different now."
"What? The angel on your shoulder?"
"So, you know about that, huh? Well, hey, don't get me wrong. I mean, most the ones I've met are dicks with wings. But still... You know, I've done things. Horrible things. And someone upstairs still decided to give me a second chance. It just makes me feel... I don't know."
"Uh-huh."
"Well, I'm just... It just doesn't feel right, you know?"
"Mm-hmm."
Francesca stepped up to Dean and placed a hand on his cheek, gently stroking it with her thumb. He closed his eyes at the touch and smiled softly.
Sam cleared his throat, appearing with Cole behind him. "Hey, guys."
"Hey, Cole," Tessa greeted. "I'm Tessa. I'm not going to hurt you."
"It's okay, Cole. Just tell them what you told me."
"I saw the black smoke at my funeral," Cole informed.
Sam glanced at Dean and Francesca who asked, "At the cemetery?"
"At the funeral home. It was everywhere."
The lights flickered and everyone looked around.
Dean looked at Tessa. "You doing that?"
"No," Tessa replied.
The front door opened and black smoke poured through, filliing the house. Everyone ducked as it poured over them. When it was gone, everyone looked around. Tessa was gone.
"Tessa!" Dean and Francesca called.
Sam looked at the boy. "Cole, you okay?"
Dean frowned. "Well, how the hell are we supposed to fight that?"
"I don't know. Learn some ghost moves?"
"By tonight? Yeah, sure," Francesca replied. "Dean and I'll meet you back at Mr. Miyagi's."
"Who's Mr. Miyagi?" Cole asked.
Sam looked between his brother, friend and Cole.
FRONT PORCH
Dean, Cole, Francesca and Sam stood on the porch. Dean was staring at a miniature windmill.
"It's not gonna work if you don't concentrate," Cole told him.
"I am concentrating," Dean retorted.
Sam and Francesca raised their eyebrows. Dean let out a breath and glared. The windmill turned a quarter turn.
"Ah, here we go, baby," Dean said.
The windmill stopped and Cole looked at Dean. "You pull a muscle?"
"All right, Yoda, let's see what you got."
Cole looked at the windmill. It started spinning and didn't stop. The porch swing started swinging. The wind chimes started chiming. Sam laughed a little.
"Dude! You are so Amityville."
Cole grinned. "This isn't even the good stuff."
LIVING ROOM
Cole punched Sam in the stomach and he folded over. "See? If you want to hit something, you just got to get mad."
Sam straightened up. "Yeah, got it."
Cole looked at Dean and Francesca. "Now you two try. Hit me."
"Uh, I think I'll stick to just picking on somebody my own size," Dean replied, indicating Sam.
Cole whacked Dean in the face and Sam and Francesca laughed. Dean rubbed his face.
He turned to Francesca. "Hit me. Unless you're too scared?"
"I don't want to hurt you," Francesca told him.
Cole punched Francesca and she doubled over with a groan.
He went over to Sam. "Hit me as hard as you can."
Sam frowned. "Dude, I'm not gonna do Fight Club with a 12-year-old."
Cole whacked Sam in the face and Sam shook it off.
"All right, cut it out," Sam said.
"Make me," Cole taunted.
He took another swing. Sam blocked and swung back. Cole vanished. Dean, Sam and Francesca looked around. Cole reappeared out of reach.
"Whoa," Dean commented. "Whoa, you got to teach us that."
EXT. FUNERAL HOME
The walls of the funeral home were covered in glowing blue diagrams, mostly six-sided figures, some in circles and some in squares with lines through them and squiggles inside the triangles that had formed. The trio crossed the street to the building. Pedestrians went by, ignoring Dean, Francesca and the glowing blue diagrams.
"This looks like New Jack City," Dean said. "Can nobody see this?"
"Maybe it's demon invisible ink," Sam guessed. "Only see it in the veil."
"Any idea what it's for?" Francesca wondered.
"We'll find out."
INT. FUNERAL HOME
A door was standing open. Sam went in and Dean and Francesca followed. Sam went one way around the stairs while Dean and Francesca went the other. Sam shrugged, seeing nothing. Dean and Francesca turned around.
In the open space in the middle of the room, there was a square with triangles on each side to form an eight-pointed star, with squiggles at each point. Lying in the figure were Tessa and an old man in a suit; the first reaper. Sam, Dean and Francesca stepped closer for a better look. One the far side of the reaper trap was a man standing guard. He hadn't seen the trio.
Dean whispered, "Dude, Frankie, check me out."
Dean took a few steps forward and vanished. He reappeared behind the man and tapped him on the shoulder. When the man turned around, Dean punched him in the face. The man straightened and took a swing, but he was gone. The man looked around; he and the reapers were the only ones visible. A hand, Sam's, tapped the man's shoulder and punched him. Francesca appeared on the man's other side and punched him. Sam kneed the man in the chest. The man scrambled away. Dean kicked him. The man hid behind the coffin on the dais. Dean, Sam and Francesca followed him up.
"You know, this ghost thing, it's, it's kind of rad," Dean commented.
Francesca nodded. "It really is."
Another man came out from behind a curtain, carrying a chain and making pained noises. The first man scrambled over the coffin and out of the way. The second man pulled the chain tight and hooked it to a candle stand.
"It's iron," Sam noted.
The man let go of the chain. His hands were smoking. Sam, Dean and Francesca looked around and the chain surrounded them.
A third demon came into the room. "Boys. Girl. Find the place okay?"
The demon's eyes rolled white; Alastair. His eyes returned to human and he walked up to the chain. One of the demons handed him a shotgun and left. Alastair checked the shotgun, then aimed at Dean and fired. Dean disintegrated. He aimed the gun and fired at Francesca and she disintegrated.
"Rock salt's not so much fun anymore, is it?" Alastair asked.
Sam glared at Alastair. Dean and Francesca reappeared and the former said, "Alastair. You bastard."
Francesca narrowed her eyes. "Bastardo."
"Well, go on," Alastair said. "Why don't you try some of your mojo on me now, hotshot?"
Dean and Francesca glanced at Sam who was fuming.
"It's hard to get it up when you're not wearing your meat, huh?"
"Go to hell," Sam retorted.
"Ah, if only I could." He turned away and crossed the room. "But they just keep sending me back up to this arctic craphole."
"To kill death?" Dean asked.
"No, to kill death twice. It takes two to break a seal. I figured another one would show up, though. They're like lemmings."
Alastair pumped the shotgun and fired. Sam disintegrated. Alastair returned to the chain. "By the way, it's, uh, good to see you again, Dean. Pleasure to see you as well, Francesca."
Francesca glared at the demon. "You can shoot us all you want, but you can't kill us."
Sam reappeared, his arms wrapped around his torso.
"Ah, that so?" Alastair questioned.
MOTEL ROOM
Pamela was still sitting in the chair between the beds with Dean's, Sam's and Francesca's bodies. Something creaked in the room and Pamela looked around. She stood and went over to the door and bolted and chained it. A window was open and the curtain was blowing.
FUNERAL HOME
Alastair was holding a scythe, turning it over in his hands. "Anyhoo..." Dean, Sam and Francesca watched Alastair. "Moon's in the right spot. The board is set. Let's get started, shall we?"
"You're gonna kill a reaper with that?" Dean taunted. "It's a little on the nose, don't you think?"
"Is it? An old friend lent it to me. You know, he doesn't really ride a pale horse? But he does have three amigos." He went over to the reapers. "And they're just jonesing for the apocalypse."
Alastair knelt next to the old man reaper. "It pays to have friends in low places." He grabbed the reaper by the collar and hauled him up. "Don't you think?"
He put the scythe behind the reaper's neck and began a spell. "Hic crour messorius, illud sigillum, quod luciferem reverendum obstringit, aperiat ut resurgat!" He pulled the scythe, causing a white-blue light to erupt. He lowered the dead reaper to the floor and straightened.
Sam looked up to see a chandelier hanging about the reaper trap.
Alastair stepped over the dead reaper and grabbed Tessa by the shoulder, holding the scythe to her neck. She was awake. Sam glanced between his brother, friend and the chandelier.
"Stop!" Tessa cried.
Dean and Francesca stared at the chandelier and concentrated.
"Hic curor messorius-" Alastair began.
Sam stared at the chandelier and concentrated.
MOTEL ROOM
Pamela closed the window. She went to the middle of the room and approached a curtain. "I know you're here. What's the matter, you reeking son of a bitch? You afraid of a skirt?"
She ripped back a shower curtain, but the bathroom was empty. She left the bathroom. A demon was waiting just outside.
Pamela sensed him and ran to Sam, leaning over him. "Vis, vis, vis!"
The demon grabbed Pamela and dragged her up. Pamela kicked at him. He grabbed her ankle and hauled, kicking the chair away.
"Son of a bitch!" Pamela cried.
FUNERAL HOME
Alastair was still speaking the spell. "-illud sigillum, quod luciferem reverendum obstringit-"
The chandelier was shaking with the force Sam, Dean and Francesca were applying. Tessa watched them.
"-aperiat ut-"
The chandelier fell.
"-resurgat!"
The chandelier landed on a corner of the reaper trap and broke it. Tessa vanished. She reappeared the the candle stand and unhooked the chain.
"Bye-bye," Dean said.
Tessa, Dean, Sam and Francesca vanished.
EXT. FUNERAL HOME
Tessa, Dean and Francesca appeared and looked around.
"Where's your brother?" Tessa asked.
"Frankie and I'll go find him," Dean replied. "You get out of here."
MOTEL ROOM
Pamela and the demon fought. Pamela got loose and leaned over Sam. "Animum vult decipi, ergo-"
The demon grabbed Pamela and threw her across the room, knocking over candles and the coffeemaker. Pamela sat up. The demon pulled a knife and stabbed Pamela in the gut.
Sam sat up and the demon pulled out the knife.
"Pamela!" Sam cried.
He raised a hand and flung the demon against the wall. He stood and exorcised the demon with his mind. The demon's host slumped to the floor.
Sam turned to Pamela, crouching to her level as she laughed. "What's so funny?"
"I can't die - not in this town," Pamela answered, taking her hand away from the injury to find no blood.
"Pamela-"
"Quit your worrying, grumpy. How about you make me a drink, huh?"
"You need a doctor."
"Make me a drink, Sam."
Sam swallowed.
ALLEY
Dean and Francesca walked along the alley, looking around.
"You two can't run," Alastair told them as he stood n the alley. "Dean. Francesca."
Dean and Francesca stopped and stared. Alastair advanced and the two retreated.
Alastair continued. "Not from me. I'm in that angsty little noggin of yours. Francesca, I'll worm my way into that noggin of yours as well."
Blue-white lightening struck Alastair and he vanished.
"What the hell?" Dean and Francesca questioned.
"Guess again," Castiel said.
Dean and Francesca turned around to find the angel behind them. "What just happened?"
Castiel looked between Dean and Francesca. "You two and Sam just saved a seal. We captured Alastair. Dean, Francesca, this was a victory."
"Well, no thanks to you," Dean retorted.
"What makes you say that?"
Francesca frowned. "You were here the whole time?"
"Enough of it," he replied as he looked away.
"Well, thanks for your help with the rock salt," Dean said.
"That script on the funeral home - I couldn't penetrate it."
"That was angel-proofing."
"Why do you think I recruited you two and Sam in the first place?" The angel looked at them.
"You recruited us?" Francesca spat.
"That wasn't your friend Bobby who called, Dean, Francesca. It wasn't Bobby who told Sam about the seal."
"That was you?" Dean asked.
Castiel looked down.
Francesca narrowed her eyes. "If you wanted our help, why didn't you just ask?"
Castiel looked between them. "Because whatever I ask, you two seem to do the exact opposite."
"So, what now, huh?" Dean wondered. "The people in this town, they just gonna start dying again?"
"Yes."
"These are good people. What, you think you can make a few exceptions?"
"To everything there is a season."
"Don't quote a song or a Bible verse," Francesca said. "You made an exception for him."
Castiel paused, then looked at Dean and Francesca. "You're different. You are too, Francesca."
There was a long pause. Castiel disappeared and Tessa appeared between the two hunters.
"Dean? Francesca?" Tessa called. "I could use both your help."
COLE'S HOUSE - DINING ROOM
Mrs. Griffith was looking at a memory book. There was a picture of Cole, age three, and a lock of his hair. She turned the page and there was a picture of herself with Cole as a small child. Cole watched his mother as she cried.
"Hey, Cole," Tessa greeted.
Cole startled and turned around. Tessa was wearing a white dress instead of the jeans and black jacket. Dean and Francesca were behind Cole.
"Tell your brother thanks for nothing," Cole said.
Dean and Francesca looked down.
"Look at her, Cole," Tessa instructed.
Cole glanced back and Tessa asked, "Do you see how unhappy she is?"
"That's why I want to stay with her," Cole replied.
"As long as she can feel you, she'll be in pain, because she can't let go." Cole glanced back again. "Because you won't let go of her."
"Why won't anybody tell me what's on the other side?"
"Maybe nobody wants to ruin the surprise."
Dean looked away and Francesca laced her fingers through his.
Cole frowned. "That's not an answer."
"She won't answer you, Cole," Dean told him. "Reapers never do. But trust me. Staying here is a whole lot worse than anything over there."
"Why?"
"Because one day, your family will be gone, and there'll be nothing left for you here," Francesca explained gently. "It's okay to be scared."
"I'm not scared."
"We're all scared," Dean said. "That's the big secret. We're all scared."
There was a pause before Cole asked, "Are you two coming?"
Tessa looked down as Dean replied, "Oh, I'm sure we'll be there sooner than you think."
Cole looked back at his mom. He unfolded his arms and walked towards Tessa. she hugged him, closing her eyes. He melted into her and vanished in white light.
Mrs. Griffith looked up, not as sad.
Tessa turned to face Dean and Francesca as he said, "Look out for that boy."
"Look out for yourself," Tessa instructed. "And you as well, Francesca."
"What do you mean?" Dean and Francesca asked.
"I've been around death from the get-go. You two know what I see most? Lies. "He's in a much better place." "At least they're together now." You all lie to yourselves, Dean, Francesca, 'cause like you said, deep down, you're all scared. Stop lying to yourselves, Dean, Francesca."
"What?"
"The angels have something good in store for you both, Dean, Francesca. A second chance. Really? 'Cause I'm pretty sure, deep down, you two know something nasty's coming down the road. Trust your instincts, Dean, Francesca. There's no such thing as miracles."
Dean frowned. "What are you saying?"
Tessa said nothing and a moment later, she was gone.
Francesca glanced at Dean. "You being alive is a miracle by itself."
MOTEL ROOM
Pamela sat on the edge of Dean and Francesca's bed, one hand to the stab wound, leaning on the other. "Imum vult decipi, ergo decipiatur. Vis, vis vis."
"Hey, we just got to talk to Tessa, that's all," Sam told her. "Get her to hold off reaping till we get you better."
"I'm pretty sure she's started up again," she replied as blood poured over her hand.
Dean and Francesca both took a deep breath and sat up. Pamela took a drink. She was breathing hard.
Dean and Francesca looked at Pamela, saw the blood, and asked, "What happened?"
"Dean, Frankie, where's Tessa?" Sam asked.
The two exchanged a look before Dean said, "She's..."
Pamela took off her sunglasses.
"Pamela, I'm so sorry," Sam apologized.
"Stop," Pamela told him.
"You don't deserve this."
"Yeah, I don't. I told you I didn't want anything to do with this. Do me a favor? Tell that bastard Bobby Singer - to go to hell for ever introducing me to you three in the first place." She started coughing.
"Take it say, Pamela," Dean said. "If it's any consolation, you're going to a better place."
Pamela turned her head towards Dean. "You're lying." Sam looked at Dean while a tear fell down Francesca's cheek. "But what the hell, right? Everybody's got to go sometime."
Pamela beckoned Sam closer. "Come here."
Sam leaned closer and Pamela whispered in his ear, "I know what you did to that demon, Sam." Sam's eyes widened. "I can feel what's inside of you. If you think you have good intentions, think again."
Pamela started coughing again. She leaned back against the headboard and a trickle of blood came out of her mouth before she fell still.
Francesca immediately grabbed some floss and a needle to sew up Pamela's wound.
"Pamela?" Sam called as her head slid down.
"Pamela!" Dean called, looking at Sam. "What did she say to you?"
Sam looked away.
Francesca stared at Pamela and dropped the needle and floss. She started falling to her knees and Dean rushed to steady her fall.
Dean knelt in front of her and pulled her into his arms. Francesca began crying softly as she curled into his embrace and Dean held her, wishing he could ease what she was feeling.