"Dammit," Dean groans. "So close."
"All right, it's time for Plan B. We're getting on that plane," Sam sighs making my eyes widen.
"Now, just hold on a second."
"Dean, that plane is leaving with over 100 passengers on board, and if we're right, that plane is gonna crash," he points out.
"I know."
"We're getting on that plane, and we need to find that demon and exorcise it. Look, I'll get the tickets. You two just go and get whatever you can that'll make it through security. Meet me back here in five minutes." Dean stares at him in shock. "Are you okay?"
"No, not really."
"What? What's wrong?"
"Well, I kind of have this problem with, uh..."
"Flying," I say.
"It's never really been an issue until now."
"You're joking, right?"
"Do I look like I'm joking? Why do you think I drive everywhere, Sam?"
"All right, uh, Cal and I will go."
"What?"
"We'll do this on our own."
"What are you, nuts? You said it yourself, the plane's gonna crash."
"We can all do it together, or Cal and I can do it ourselves. I'm not seeing a third option here."
"Come on! Really," Dean sighs.
"You know what," I pipe in. "Dean, you will be alright. We're not gonna let the plane crash, okay? Sam, go get the tickets, and we'll get what we can," I order. "Now, go! We're running out of time."
*on the plane*
"Just try to relax," Sam says.
"Just try to shut up," Dean snaps back. I roll my eyes, as the plane starts to move forward. I take a deep breath, closing my eyes for a second.
"Are you okay," Sam asks making me look over at him. "Don't tell me you're afraid of flying too."
"No, I'm more afraid of this demon situation," I admit quietly. "It's been three years. I thought I was over it, but... I'm not."
"Hey," he says, reaching over and taking my hand in his. I swallow the lump in my throat, as he stares into my eyes. "Nothing's gonna happen to you. I promise." He leans down and kisses the back of my hand.
"Thanks, Sam," I smile. I let out a shaky breath, as we take off.
A couple minutes into the flight, Sam speaks. "Are you humming Metallica?"
"Calms me down," Dean defends. Sam scoffs.
"Look, man, I get you're nervous, all right? But you got to stay focused."
"Okay."
"I mean, we got 32 minutes and counting to track this thing down-- or whoever it's possessing, anyway-- and perform a full-on exorcism."
"Yeah, on a crowded plane. That's gonna be easy."
"Just take it one step at a time, all right? Now, who is it possessing?"
"Well, 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 emotional distress," Dean answers.
"Well, this is Amanda's first flight after the crash. If I were her, I'd be pretty messed up," I point out.
"Mm-hmm," Dean nods, as she walks beside us. "Excuse me? Are you Amanda?"
"No, I'm not."
"Oh, my mistake." She continues walking, and Dean glances back. "All right, 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."
"What if she's already possessed?"
"There's ways to test that," I say. Dean opens the bag, pulling out a bottle.
"We brought Holy Water."
"No. I think we can go more subtle," Sam says, taking it from him. "If she's possessed, she'll flinch at the name of God."
"Oh. Nice." Dean unbuckles his seatbelt, standing up.
"Hey."
"What?"
"Say it in Latin."
"I know."
"Hey!"
"What?!"
"In Latin, it's "Cristo"."
"Dude, I know! I'm not an idiot."