As Dean packed, he turned to his twins and frowned. "Lennon, put your shoes on. I won't tell you again."
"But it's hard!" she whined, dramatically falling on the floor.
Simon put his backpack on. "I'm ready."
He sighed. "I'll help you tie your shoes."
Dean helped Lennon tie her shoes and she smiled sweetly. "Thanks, Daddy. Where are we going?"
Dean ruffled her hair. "We're gonna get someone very special and then we're going to do my job."
"Can Simon and I do your job?"
"Maybe when you're older. Right now it's too dangerous. Hey, Simon, we wait for Daddy to get the door, right?"
Simon pulled his hand from the handle and nodded, looking at the ground.
Dean buckled the twins into their car seats and drove off.
When they reached their destination, Dean left his sleeping kids in the Impala and opened a window and snuck into an apartment.
Dean opened the window and clinked the beer cabinet. He walked past the string at the far end of the hall. He hit his hip and let out a quiet hiss.
Sam, who had been woken up, moved to another part of the apartment and waited as Dean entered the room.
Sam lunged forward and grabbed Dean's shoulder. Dean knocked Sam's arm away and aimed a strike at Sam, who ducked. Dean grabbed Sam's arm, swung him around, and shoved him back. Sam kicked and was blocked before being pushed into another room. Sam got a glimpse of Dean, though he didn't immediately recognize the fact. Dean elbowed Sam in the face and Sam kicked at his head. Dean ducked and swung, but Sam blocked him. Dean knocked Sam down and pinned him to the floor, one hand at Sam's neck and the other holding Sam's wrist.
"Whoa, easy tiger," Dean said.
Sam breathed hard. "Dean?" His eldest brother laughed. "You scared the crap out of me!"
"That's 'cause you're out of practice."
Sam grabbed Dean's hand and yanked, slamming his heel into Dean's back and Dean to the floor.
"Or not," Dean said.
Sam tapped Dean twice where he had him.
"Get off of me," Dean demanded.
Sam rolled to his feet and pulled Dean up. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Well I was looking for a beer."
Sam looked at him as Dean put his hands on Sam's shoulders, shook once, and let go.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Sam repeated.
Dean said, "Okay. All right. We gotta talk."
"Uh, the phone?"
"If I'd'a called, would you have picked up?"
Jessica turned the light on. She was in pink short shorts and a gray cropped Smurfs shirt.
"Sam?" Jess called.
The brothers turned their heads in unison.
"Jess," Sam noted. "Hey. Dean, this is my girlfriend, Jessica."
Dean looked at Jess appreciatively.
Realization dawned on Jess' face. "Wait, your brother Dean?" She smiled and nodded.
Dean grinned and stepped closer. "Oh, I love the Smurfs. You know, I gotta tell you. You are completely out of my brother's league."
"Just let me put something on," Jess replied uncomfortably as she turned to leave.
Dean's voice stopped her. "No, no, no, I wouldn't dream of it. Seriously."
Dean went back over to Sam, keeping his eyes on Jess. Sam watched him with a stony expression.
After a moment, Dean said, "Anyway, I gotta borrow your boyfriend here, talk about some private family business. But, uh, nice meeting you."
"No," Sam protested, walking over to Jess and putting an arm around her. "No, whatever you want to say, you can say it in front of her."
Dean pursed his lips a moment. "Okay. Uh, Dad hasn't been home in a few days."
"So he's working overtime on a Miller Time Shift. He'll stumble back in sooner or later."
Dean ducked his head and looked back up. "Dad's on a hunting trip. And he hasn't been home in a few days."
Sam's expression remained the same as he took in his brother's words.
Jess glanced up at him and Sam said, "Jess, excuse us. We have to go outside."
They made their way to the stairwell and headed down the stairs. Sam had slipped on jeans and a hoodie.
Sam frowned. "I mean, come on. You can't just break in, middle of the night, and expect me to hit the road with you."
"You're not hearing me, Sammy," Dean replied. "Dad's missing. I need you to help us find him."
"You remember the poltergeist in Amherst? Or the Devil's Gates in Clifton? He was missing, then, too. He's always missing, and he's always fine. Us? Who's us?"
Dean stopped and turned around. Sam stopped as well.
The elder brother shook his head. "Not for this long. Me and my twins. Now, are you coming with us or not?"
"I'm not."
"Why not?"
"I swore I was done hunting. For good."
Dean glanced at Sam. "Come on. It wasn't easy, but it wasn't that bad."
Dean resumed walking down the stairs and Sam followed.
"Yeah?" Sam retorted. "When I told Dad I was scared of the thing in my closet, he gave me a .45."
Dean stopped at the door to the outside. "Well, what was he supposed to do?"
"I was nine years old! He was supposed to say, don't be afraid of the dark."
"Don't be afraid of the dark? Are you kidding me? Of course you should be afraid of the dark. You know what's out there."
"Yeah, I know, but still. The way we grew up after Mom was killed, and Dad's obsession to find the thing that killed her."
Dean glanced outside as Sam continued. "But we still haven't found the damn thing. So we kill everything we can find."
"We save a lot of people doing it, too," Dean shot back.
There was a pause before Sam asked, "You think Mom would've wanted this for us? You think Madisom would've wanted this for the twins?"
Dean rolled his eyes and slammed the door open.
The brothers climbed up a short flight of stairs to the parking lot.
Sam continued his rant. "The weapon training and the melting the silver into bullets? Man, Dean, we were raised like warriors."
They crossed the parking lot to the Impala.
"So what are you gonna do? You're just gonna live some normal, apple-pie life? Is that it?"
"No. Not normal. Safe."
"And that's why you ran away." He looked away.
"I was just going to college. It was Dad who said if I was gonna go, I should stay gone. And that's what I'm doing."
"Yeah, well, Dad's in real trouble now. If he's not dead already. I can feel it."
Sam remained silent.
Dean's voice took on a pleading tone. "We can't do this alone."
"Yes you can," Sam said.
Dean looked down. "Yeah, well, I don't want to."
Sam sighed and looked down in thought then lifted his head. "What was he hunting?"
Dean opened the trunk of the Impala, then the spare-tire compartment to reveal an arsenal. He propped the compartment open with a shotgun and dug through the clutter.
"All right, let's see, where the hell did I put that thing?"
"So when Dad left, why didn't you and your girls go with him?" Sam asked.
"I was working my own gig," Dean explained. "This, uh, voodoo thing, down in New Orleans."
"Dad let you go on a hunting trip by yourself?"
"I'm 26, dude." He pulled papers out of a folder. "Here we are. Dad was checking out this two-lane blacktop just outside of Jericho, California. About a month ago, this dude." He handed him a paper. "They found his car, but he vanished. Completely MIA."
Sam read the article and glanced up. "So maybe he was kidnapped."
"Yeah. Well, here's another one in April." He tossed down another article for each date he mentioned. "Another one in December '04, '03, '98, '92, ten of them over the past twenty years."
Dean took the article back from Sam and picked up the rest of the stack before putting them back in the folder.
After a moment, he said, "All men, all the same five-mile stretch of road." He pulled a bag from the arsenal. "It started happening more and more, so Dad went to go dig around. That was about three weeks ago. I hadn't heard from him since, which is bad enough." He pulled out a tape recorder. "Then I get this voicemail yesterday."
He pressed play and a staticky John said, "Dean... something big is starting to happen... I need to try and figure out what's going on. It may... Be very careful, Dean. Keep your kids safe. We're all in danger."
Dean pressed stop.
"You know there's EVP on that?" Sam said.
Dean grinned. "Not bad, Sammy. Kinda like riding a bike, isn't it?" Sam shook his head. "All right. I slowed the message down, ran it through a gold wave, took out the hiss, and this his what we got." He pressed play again.
A woman said, "I can never go home."
Dean pressed stop.
"Never go home," Sam repeated.
Dean dropped the recorder, put down the shotgun, stood straight, shut the trunk, and leaned on it.
"You know, in almost two years I've never bothered you, never asked you for a thing," Dean said.
Sam sighed. "All right. I'll go. I'll help you find him." Dean nodded. "But I have to get back first thing Monday. Just wait here."
Sam turned to go back to the apartment and turned back as Dean asked, "What's first thing Monday?"
"I have this... I have an interview."
"What, a job interview? Skip it."
"It's a law school interview, and it's my whole future on a plate."
"Law school?"
"So we got a deal or not?"
Dean said nothing as Sam went inside. He glanced in the window and smiled at his sleeping son and daughter.
Sam returned with his duffel bag and stared a moment at the apartment.
They drove away.
---
Dean pulled up to a gas station and parked in front of a pump. Ramblin' Man by The Allman Brothers blasted through the speakers.
"Hey!" Dean called.
Sam leaned out and looked at him.
"You want breakfast?" Dean asked.
"No, thanks," Sam replied.
Dean walked up to Lennon's window. "I got some Cheerios for you and your brother."
Lennon and Simon gleefully took the Cheerios.
Sam looked at his brother. "So how'd you pay for that stuff? You and Dad still running credit card scams?"
Dean shrugged. "Yeah, well, hunting ain't exactly a pro-ball career." He put the nozzle back on the pump. "Besides, all we do is apply. It's not our fault they send us the cards."
"Yeah? And what names did you write on the applications this time?" He swung his legs back and closed the door.
"Uh, Burt Aframian." He got into the driver's seat and put his soda and chips down. "And his son Hector. Scored two cards out of the deal."
Sam cut him off. "That sounds about right. I swear, man, you've gotta update your cassette tape collection."
"Why?" Dean asked.
"Well, for one, they're cassette tapes. And two." He held up a tape for every band he named. "Black Sabbath? Motörhead? Metallica?" Dean took the labeled Metallica from Sam. "It's the greatest hits of mullet rock."
"Well, house rules, Sammy." He popped the tape in the player. "Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole." He dropped the Metallica box back in the box of tapes and started the engine.
"You know, Sammy is a chubby twelve-year-old," Sam said as AC/DC's Back in Black began playing. "It's Sam, okay?"
"Sorry, I can't hear you. The music's too loud." He drove off.
Simon and Lennon laughed as they danced to the music.
After a while, they passed a sign that said JERICHO 7.
Sam was on his phone. "Thank you." He closed it. "All right. So, there's no one matching Dad at the hospital or morgue. So that's something, I guess."
Dean glanced at Sam and back to the road. At the bridge ahead, there were two police cars and several officers.
"Check it out," Dean noted.
Sam leaned forward for a closer look.
Dean pulled over. They took a long look before Dean turned off the engine. Dean opened the glove compartment and pulled out a box full of ID cards with his and John's faces. He picked one out and grinned at Sam, who stared.
"Let's go."
The two of them walked onto the crime scene. The kids were once again left in the Impala much to their, Lennon's especially, frustration.
"So, this kid Troy," Deputy Jaffe began. "He's dating your daughter, isn't he?"
"Yeah," Hein replied.
"How's Amy doing?"
"She's putting up missing posters downtown."
Dean made his presence known. "You fellas had another one like this just last month, didn't you?"
Jaffe looked up, hearing Dean, and straightened up to talk to him. "And who are you?"
Dean flashed his badge. "Federal Marshals."
"You two are a little young for Marshals, aren't you?"
Dean laughed. "Thanks, that's awfully kind of you." He walked towards the car. "You did have another one just like this, correct?"
"Yeah, that's right. About a mile up the road. There've been others before that."
"So, this victim, you knew him?" Sam asked.
Jaffe nodded. "Town like this, everybody knows everybody."
Dean circled the car, looking around. "Any connection between the victims, besides that they're all men?"
"No. Not so far as we can tell."
"So what's the theory?"
"Honestly, we don't know. Serial murder? Kidnapping ring?"
"Well, that is exactly the kind of crack police work I'd expect out of you guys."
Sam stomped on one of Dean's feet before saying, "Thank you for your time."
Sam began walking away and his brother followed.
"Gentlemen," Sam said.
Jaffe watched them go.
As soon as Jaffe turned away, Dean smacked Sam on the head.
"Ow!" Sam cried. "What was that for?"
"Why'd you have to step on my feet?" Dean asked.
"Why do you have to talk to police like that?"
Dean looked at Sam and stepped in front of him, stopping him from walking. "Come on. They don't really know what's going on. We're all alone on this. I mean, if we're going to find Dad, we've got to get to the bottom of this thing ourselves."
Sam cleared his throat and looked over Dean's shoulder. Dean turned to see the sheriff and two FBI agents.
"Can I help you boys?" Sheriff Pierce asked.
"No, sir, we were just leaving," Dean replied.
As the FBI agents walked past Dean, he nodded and said, "Agent Mulder. Agent Scully."
They walked past the sheriff, who turned to watch them go.
JERICHO - STREET
The brothers and kids watched a young woman putting up missing posters.
"I'll bet you that's her," Dean guessed.
Sam nodded. "Yeah."
They walked up to the young woman and Dean smiled. "You must be Amy."
"Yeah," the girl confirmed.
He gave a small smile. "Troy told us about you. We're are his uncles, Dean and Sammy. These are my son and daughter Simon and Lennon."
Amy frowned. "He never mentioned you to me."
Amy walked away and the brothers and twins followed her.
"Well, that's Troy, I guess," Dean said. "We're not around much, we're up in Modesto."
"So, we're looking for him too, and we're kinda asking around," Sam explained.
Another young woman, Rachel, came up to Amy and put a hand on her arm.
"Hey, are you okay?" Rachel asked.
"Yeah," Amy replied.
"You mind if we ask you a couple questions?" Sam asked.
They sat in a booth. The brothers sat across from Amy and Rachel. Simon was on Sam's lap and Lennon was on Dean's.
"I was on the phone with Troy," Amy began. "He said he was driving home. He said he would call me right back, and... he never did."
"He didn't say anything strange, or out of the ordinary?" Dean questioned.
Amy shook her head. "No. Nothing I can remember."
"I like your necklace," Lennon said as she pointed to it. "It's so super cool."
Amy held the pendant she was wearing; a pentagram in a circle and looked down at it. "Troy gave it to me. Mostly to scare my parents-" she laughed, "-with all that devil stuff."
Sam laughed a little and looked down, then up. Dean looked at him.
"Actually, it means just the opposite," Sam said. "A pentagram is protection against evil. Really powerful. I mean, if you believe in that kind of thing."
"Okay. Thank you Unsolved Mysteries," Dean commented, seeing Amy's expression.
Dean took his arm off the back of the booth and leaned forward. "Here's the deal, ladies. The way Troy disappeared, something's not right. So if you've heard anything..." Amy and Rachel looked at each other. "What is it?"
"Well, it's just... I mean, with all these guys going missing, people talk," Rachel replied.
The brothers, in unison, asked, "What do they talk about?"
"It's kind of this local legend. This one girl? She got murdered out on Centennial, likes decades ago."
Dean looked at Sam, who watched Rachel attentively, nodding.
Rachel continued. "Well, supposedly she's still out there." Sam nodded. "She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up? Well, they disappear forever."
The brothers shared a look.
LIBRARY
Dean was on a computer and typed in Female Murder Hitchhiking. He clicked GO and the screen told him 0 results. Dean replaced hitchhiking with Centennial Highway with the same response. Sam sat next to him, with the twins on his lap, watching.
"Let me try," Sam said.
Dean smacked Sam's hand. "I got it."
Sam shoved Dean's chair out of the way and took over.
"Dude!" Dean cried, hitting Sam's shoulder. "You're such a control freak."
"So angry spirits are born out of violent death, right?" Sam said.
"Yeah."
"Well, maybe it's not murder."
Sam replaced murder with suicide and found an article titled Suicide on Centennial. Dean glanced at Sam. Sam opened the article dated April 25, 1981.
"This was 1981," Sam told his brother. It told of Constance Welch, twenty-four years old, jumped off Sylvania Bridge, drowned in the river.
"Does it say why she did it?" Dean asked.
"Yeah," Sam said.
"What?"
"An hour before they found her, she calls 911. Apparently her two little kids are in the bathtub. She leaves them alone for a minute, and when she comes back, they aren't breathing. Both die."
Dean raised his eyebrows. "Hm." He glanced at his children.
In the article, Joseph Welch was next to Sylvania Bridge.
Sam continued reading. ""'Our babies were gone, and Constance just couldn't bear it,' said husband Joseph Welch.""
Dean studied the bridge. "Check it out."
SYLVANIA BRIDGE
The brothers walked along the bridge, then stopped to lean on the railing to look down at the river. Lennon and Simon were asleep in the car.
"So this is where Constance took the swan dive," Dean commented.
"So you think Dad would have been here?" Sam asked, glancing at his brother.
"Well, he's chasing the same story and we're chasing him."
Dean continued walking and Sam followed.
"Okay, so now what?" Sam wondered.
"Now we keep digging until we find him," Dean replied. "Might take awhile."
Sam stopped. "Dean, I told you, I've gotta get back by Monday-"
Dean turned around. "Monday. Right. The interview."
"Yeah."
"Yeah, I forgot. You're really serious about this, aren't you? You think you're just going to become some lawyer? Marry your girl?"
"Maybe. Why not?"
"Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know about the things you've done?"
Sam stepped closer. "No, and she's not ever going to know."
"Well, that's healthy. You can pretend all you want, Sammy. But sooner or later you're going to have to face up to who you really are." Dean turned and kept walking.
Sam followed. "And who's that?"
"You're one of us."
Sam hurried to get in front of Dean. "No. I'm not like you. This is not going to be my life."
"You have a responsibility to-"
"To Dad? And his crusade? If it weren't for pictures, I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like. And what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, Mom's gone. And she isn't coming back."
Dean grabbed Sam by the collar and shoved him against the railing of the bridge and paused. "Don't talk about her like that." He glanced to the side and frowned. "Sam."
Sam stood next to Dean. Constance looked at Sam, then stepped forward off the edge. The brothers ran to the railing and looked over.
"Where'd she go?" Dean asked.
"I don't know," Sam replied.
Behind them, the Impala's engine started and the headlights turned on. Dean and Sam turned to look.
"What the-" Dean began.
"Who's driving your car?" Sam wondered.
Dean pulled the keys from his pocket and jingled them. He stared at the car in horror, knowing his children were in the back. Sam glanced at him. The car jerked into motion, gunning straight for them. They turned and ran.
"Dean?" Sam called. "Go! Go!"
The car moved faster than the brothers and when it got too close, they dove over the railing. The car came to a halt.
Sam caught himself on the edge of the bridge and was hanging on. He looked around and called, "Dean? Dean!"
Below, a filthy, annoyed Dean crawled out of the water and onto the mud, panting. "What?"
"Hey! Are you all right?"
Dean held up one hand in an A-OK sign. "I'm super."
Sam laughed, relived, and scooted away from the edge.
When they gathered at the top, Dean shut the hood and leaned on it. He checked his children over, relieved they were okay.
"Car all right?" Sam asked. "What about the girls?"
Dean nodded. "Yeah, whatever she did to it, seems all right now. The girls are a little freaked out, but they're okay. That Constance chick, what a bitch!"
"Well, she doesn't want us digging around, that's for sure," Sam reasoned. "So where's the job go from here, genius?"
Sam settled on the hood next to Dean. Dean threw up his arms in frustration before flicking mud off his hands.
Sam sniffed and looked at Dean. "You smell like a toilet."
Dean looked down.
"Daddy!" Simon and Lennon called.
Dean opened Simon's door and said, "It's okay now."
Lemon glanced at her brother, then turned back to her father. "Daddy, that was scary."
"I know, sweetheart, but you and your brother are safe now."
"Promise?"
"I promise."
MOTEL LOBBY
Dean slid Hector Aframian's card across the counter. "One room, please."
The clerk looked at the card and asked, "You guys having a reunion or something?"
"What do you mean?" Sam asked.
"I had another guy, Burt Aframian. He come and bought out a room for the whole month."
Dean looked back at his brother who was holding a frowning Simon's hand and a singing Lennon's hand.
Sam picked the lock to John's room and the door swung open. He stood. Dean was outside playing lookout and Sam reached out of the room to grab his shoulder and yanked him inside. Lennon and Simon wandered into the room. Sam closed the door behind them. They looked around to see the wall strung with maps, newspaper clippings, pictures, and notes. There were books on the desk and assorted junk on the floor and bed, including something with a hazardous-materials symbol.
"Whoa," Sam commented.
Dean turned on a light by the bed as Margaret picked up a half-eaten burger. Sam stepped over a salt line on the floor.
Dean took the burger from her and sniffed it and recoiled. "I don't think he's been here for a couple days at least."
"Can I have some?" Simon asked, pointing to the burger.
"No, bud, you can't. This'll make you sick. We'll get food soon, okay?"
"Okay."
Sam fingered the salt on the floor and looked up. "Salt, cats-eye shells... he was worried. Trying to keep something from coming in."
Dean looked at the papers covering one wall.
"What have you got here?" Sam asked.
"Centennial Highway victims," Dean replied.
Sam nodded. The victims on the wall included, Mark, William Durell, Scott Nifong, Parks. Mark, Durrell, and Nifong were all white marks.
Dean frowned. "I don't get it. "I mean, different men, different jobs," Sam crossed the room, "ages, ethnicities. There's always a connection, right? What do these guys have in common?"
Sam investigated something that caught his attention. He'd found Constance's article. "Dad figured it out."
Dean turned to look. "What do you mean?"
Sam pointed to the article. "Dad found the same article we did. Constance Welch. She's a Woman in White."
Dean looked at the photos of Constance's victims. "You sly dogs." He looked at his brother. "All right, so if we're dealing with a Woman in White, Dad would have found the corpse and destroyed it."
"She might have another weakness."
"Well, Dad would want to make sure." Dean made his way to Sam. "He'd dig her up. Does it say where she's buried?"
Sam shook his head. "No, not that I can tell. If we were Dad, though, we'd go ask her husband." Sam tapped the picture of Joseph Welch. "If he's still alive." He looked at something else.
Dean looked at the picture below the Herald article of a woman in a white dress. "All right. Why don't you, uh, see if you can find an address, I'm gonna get cleaned up."
As Dean walked towards the bathroom, Sam turned. "Hey, Dean?"
Dean stopped and turned.
"What I said earlier, about Mom and Dad, I'm sorry," Sam apologized.
Dean held up a hand. "No chick-flick moments."
Sam laughed and nodded. "All right. Jerk."
"Bitch." He pointed to Simon and Lennon. "Don't you repeat that." He entered the bathroom.
Sam picked up a photo of his dad, brother and himself.
Simon climbed onto the bed next to his sister and the two began a game of pat-a-cake. John was sitting on the hood of the Impala, next to a boy in a baseball cap and a boy with a Little League baseball jersey on. In John's lap was a little boy with brown hair. Sam smiled sadly at the photo.
Dean eventually emerged from the bathroom and grabbed his jacket. He shrugged it on one shoulder as he crossed the room. "Hey man. I'm starving, I'm gonna grab a little something to eat and pick up something for the twins in that diner down the street. You want anything?"
"No," Sam replied.
"Aframian's buying."
Sam shook his head. "Mm-mm."
Dean left the motel room. He put his jacket the rest of the way on as he crossed the lot. The motel clerk was talking to Deputy Jaffe and Deputy Hein. The clerk pointed at Dean, who turned away and pulled out his cell phone.
Sam finished listening to Jess' message and answered Dean's call. "What?"
Outside, the deputies were approaching Dean.
"Dude, five-oh, take off," Dean said.
Sam stood. "What about you?"
"Uh, they kinda spotted me. Go find Dad. Take the twins."
Dean hung up just as the two deputies approached.
He grinned at the deputies. "Problem, officers?"
"Where's your partner?" Jaffe asked.
"Partner? What partner?"
Jaffe glanced over his shoulder and jerked his thumb towards the motel room. Hein made his way to the motel room as Dean fidgeted.
"So," Jaffe began. "Fake US Marshal. Fake intern. Fake credit cards. You two got anything that's real?"
"My boobs," Dean said with a grin.
Hein slammed Dean over the hood of the cop car.
"You have right to remain silent-"
SHERIFF'S OFFICE
Sheriff Pierce entered the room, carrying a box. He set the box on the table at which Dean sat and went around the table to face Dean across it.
"So you want to give us your real name?" Sheriff Pierce asked.
"I told you, it's Nugent," Dean replied. "Ted Nugent."
"I'm not sure you realize just how much trouble you're in here."
"We talkin', like, misdemeanor kind of trouble or, uh, squeal like a pig trouble?"
"You got the faces of ten missing persons taped to your wall." Dean looked away. "Along with a whole lot of Satanic mumbo-jumbo. Boy, you are officially suspects."
"That makes sense. Because when the first one went missing in '82 I was three."
"I know you've got partners. One of 'em's an older guy. Maybe he started the whole thing. So tell me. Dean." He tossed a brown leather-covered journal on the table. "This his?"
Dean stared at it. The sheriff sat on the edge of the table. He flipped through the journal: it was filled with newspaper clippings, notes, and pictures, just like what was on the walls of John's motel room.
Sheriff Pierce continued. "I thought that might be your name. See, I leafed through this. What little I could make out—I mean, it's nine kinds of crazy." Dean leaned forward for a closer look.
He opened the journal to a page that read "DEAN, 35-111", circled, with nothing else on that page.
"Now. You're stayin' right here till you tell me exactly what the hell that means," Sheriff Pierce told Dean.
Dean stared down at the page, then looked up.
INT. HOUSE – DAY
Sam knocked on the door the grimy window was in. An old man opens it. It was Joseph Welch.
"Hi. Are you Joseph Welch?" Sam asked.
"Yeah," Joseph replied.
EXT. DRIVEWAY – DAY
Sam, Simon, Lennon and Joseph were walking down the junk-filled driveway, Joseph holding the photo Sam found on John's motel room mirror.
"Yeah, he was older, but that's him," Joseph confirmed, handing the photo back to Sam. "He came by three or four days ago. Said he was a reporter."
"That's right. We're working on a story together," Sam told him.
"Well, I don't know what the hell kinda story you're working on. The questions he asked me?"
"About your wife Constance?"
"He asked me where she was buried."
"And where is that again?"
"What, I gotta go through this twice?"
"It's fact-checking. If you don't mind."
"In a plot. Behind my old place over on Breckenridge."
"And why did you move?"
"I'm not gonna live in the house where my children died."
Sam stopped walking. Joseph stopped as well.
"Mr. Welch, did you ever marry again?" Sam asked.
"No way. Constance, she was the love of my life. Prettiest woman I ever known."
"So you had a happy marriage?"
Joseph hesitated. "Definitely."
"Well, that should do it. Thanks for your time."
Sam turned toward the Impala. Joseph walked away. Sam waited a moment, then looked back up at Joseph.
"Mr. Welch, did you ever hear of a woman in white?" Sam asked.
Joseph turned around. "A what?"
"A woman in white. Or sometimes weeping woman?"
Joseph just looked.
"It's a ghost story. Well, it's more of a phenomenon, really." He started back towards Joseph. "Uh, they're spirits. They've been sighted for hundreds of years, dozens of places, in Hawaii, Mexico, lately in Arizona, Indiana. All these are different women."
Sam stopped in front of Joseph and spoke. "You understand. But all share the same story."
"Boy, I don't care much for nonsense." Joseph walked away.
Sam followed as he said, "See, when they were alive, their husbands were unfaithful to them." Joseph stopped. "And these women, basically suffering from temporary insanity, murdered their children." Joseph turned around. "Then once they realized what they had done, they took their own lives. So now their spirits are cursed, walking back roads, waterways. And if they find an unfaithful man, they kill him. And that man is never seen again."
"You think... you think that has something to do with... Constance? You smartass!"
"You tell me."
"I mean, maybe... maybe I made some mistakes. But no matter what I did, Constance, she never would have killed her own children. Now, you get the hell out of here! And you don't come back!"
Lennon narrowed her eyes. "He's not a smartass!"
A small smile twitched at Sam's lips and he said, "It's okay. Don't let your father hear what you just said. Simon, don't repeat your sister's words."
Joseph's face shook, whether from anger or grief it was impossible to tell. After a long moment, he turned away. Sam sighed.
INT. SHERIFF'S OFFICE – NIGHT
"I don't know how many times I gotta tell you," Dean said. "It's my high school locker combo."
Sheriff Pierce was still interrogating Dean over the "DEAN, 35-111" page.
"We gonna do this all night long?" Sheriff Pierce asked.
A deputy leaned into the room. "We just got a 911, shots fired over at Whiteford Road."
"You have to go to the bathroom?"
"No," Dean replied.
"Good."
Sheriff Pierce handcuffed Dean to the table and left. Dean saw a paper clip poking out of the journal, pulled it out, and looked at it. Moments later, as Sheriff Pierce and the deputy were gearing up to leave, he was out of the cuffs. Dean watched through the window in the door, ducked out of sight as the deputy approached the door, and waited.
EXT. SHERIFF'S OFFICE – NIGHT
Dean climbed down the fire escape, the former carrying John's journal.
EXT. HIGHWAY – NIGHT / EXT. STREET – NIGHT
Sam was driving the Impala when his phone rang. The twins were in the back, having a discussion about anything that crossed their minds. He pulled it out and answered it. Dean was in a phone booth.
"Fake 911 phone call?" Dean said. "Sammy, I don't know, that's pretty illegal."
"You're welcome," Sam replied with a grin.
"Listen, we gotta talk."
"Tell me about it. So the husband was unfaithful. We are dealing with a woman in white. And she's buried behind her old house, so that should have been Dad's next stop."
"Sammy, would you shut up for a second?"
"I just can't figure out why Dad hasn't destroyed the corpse yet."
"Well, that's what I'm trying to tell you. He's gone. Dad left Jericho."
"What? How do you know?"
"Dean and I've got his journal."
"He doesn't go anywhere without that thing."
"Yeah, well, he did this time."
"What's it say?"
"Ah, the same old ex-Marine crap, when he wants to let us know where he's going."
"Coordinates. Where to?"
"I'm sure yet. Are the twins okay?"
Sam frowned. "Yeah, they're fine. I don't understand. I mean, what could be so important that Dad would just skip out in the middle of a job? Dean, what the hell is going on?"
Sam looked up and slammed the brake, dropping the phone: Constance appeared on the road in front of him. The car went right through her as Sam brought it to a halt. Simon and Lennon let out a scream.
"Sam? Sam! Simon! Lennon!"
Inside the car, Sam breathed hard and Simon and Lennon were crying. Constance was sitting in the back seat.
"Take me home," Constance said.
EXT. HIGHWAY – NIGHT
"Take me home!" Constance yelled.
"No," Sam retorted.
Constance glared and the doors locked themselves. Sam struggled to reopen them. The gas pedal pressed down and the car began to drive itself. Sam tried to steer, but Constance was doing that as well. Sam continued to try to get the doors open. In the back seat, Constance flickered. Simon and Lennon stared worriedly at Constance.
EXT. ABANDONED HOUSE ON BRECKENRIDGE ROAD – NIGHT
The car pulled up in front of Constance's house and stopped. The engine shut off, as did the lights.
"Don't do this," Sam said.
Constance flickered. Her voice was sad. "I can never go home."
"You're scared to go home."
Sam looked back and Constance wasn't there. He glanced around and back and saw her in the shotgun seat. She climbed into his lap, shoving him back against the seat hard enough to recline the seat. Sam struggled and fumbled to find a weapon.
"Hold me. I'm so cold," Constance said.
"You can't kill me," Sam told her. "I'm not unfaithful. I've never been!"
Constance leaned close to Sam's ear. "You will be. Just hold me."
Constance kissed Sam as he continued to struggle, reaching for the keys. Constance pulled back and disappeared, a flash of something horrible behind her face as she vanished. Sam looked around for a moment, then yelled in pain and yanked his hoodie open. There were five new holes burned through the fabric, matching to Constance's fingers. She flickered in front of him, her hands reaching into his chest. A gunshot went off, shattering the window and startling Constance. Dean approached, still firing at her. She glared at them and vanished, then reappeared, and Dean kept firing until she disappeared again. Sam managed to sit up and start the car.
"I'm taking you home," Sam said.
Sam drove forward. Dean stared after the car. Sam smashed through the side of the house. Dean hurried through the wreckage to the passenger side of the car.
"Sam! Sam!" Dean called. "You okay? Are Simon and Lennon?"
"I think..." Sam began.
"Can you move?"
"Yeah. Help me?"
Dean leaned through the window to give Sam a hand.
"Daddy?" Lennon called with a whimper.
Dean gently stroked her cheek. "Are you and Simon okay, sweetheart?"
Lennon nodded. "I don't wanna be in the house."
"We'll be out soon, okay?"
"Okay. Can Simon and I stay here?"
"I think that's best."
He kissed her forehead, then did the same to Simon.
Constance picked up a large framed photograph seen when she brought Troy there; the woman was Constance and the children were presumably hers.
Dean helped Sam out of the car and said, "There you go."
Dean closed the car door. They looked around and saw Constance; she looked up. She glared at them and threw the picture down. A bureau scooted towards Sam and Dean, pinning them against the car. The lights flickered; Constance looked around, scared. Water began to pour down the staircase. She went over. At the top were the boy and girl from the photograph.
The children held hands and speak in chorus. "You've come home to us, Mommy."
Constance looked at them, distraught. Suddenly they were behind her. They embraced her tightly and she screamed, her image flickering. In a surge of energy, still screaming, Constance and the two children melted into a puddle in the floor. Sam and Dean shoved the bureau over and went look at the spot where Constance and her children vanished.
"So this is where she drowned her kids," Dean commented.
Sam nodded before he said, "That's why she could never go home. She was too scared to face them."
"You found her weak spot. Nice work, Sammy." He slapped Sam on the chest where he'd been injured and walked away.
Sam laughed through the pain. "Yeah, I wish I could say the same for you two. What were you thinking shooting Casper in the face, you freak?"
"Hey. Saved your ass." Dean leaned over to look at the car. "I'll tell you another thing. If you screwed up my car or my kids?" He twisted around to look at Sam. "I'll kill you."
Sam laughed and smiled at the twins.
EXT. HIGHWAY – NIGHT
The Impala tore down the road; the right headlight was out.
Sam had the journal open to "DEAN, 35-111" and a map open on his lap and was finding coordinates with a ruler, a flashlight tucked between his chin and shoulder.
"Okay, here's where Dad went," Sam said. "It's called Blackwater Ridge, Colorado."
Dean nodded. "Sounds charming. How far?"
"About six hundred miles."
"Hey, if we shag ass we could make it by morning."
Sam looked at him, hesitating. "Dean, I, um..."
Dean glanced at the road and back. "You're not going."
"The interview's in like, ten hours. I gotta be there."
Dean nodded, disappointed, and returned his attention to the road. "Yeah. Yeah, whatever." He glanced at Sam. "I'll take you home."
Sam turned the flashlight off. They drove on.
EXT. SAM'S APARTMENT BUILDING – NIGHT
They pulled up in front of the apartment, Dean still frowning.
Sam got out and leaned over to look through the window before asking, "Call me if you find him?" Dean nodded. "And maybe I can meet up with you two later, huh?"
"Yeah, all right," Dean replied.
Sam patted the car door twice and turned away. Dean leaned toward the passenger door, one arm going over the back of the seat.
"Sam?" Dean called, causing Sam to turn back. "You know, we made a hell of a team back there."
"Yeah," Sam agreed.
Dean drove off. Sam watched them go and sighed.
INT. SAM'S APARTMENT – NIGHT
Sam let himself in. Everything is dark and quiet.
"Jess?" Sam called as he closed the door. "You home?"
Sam noticed a plate of chocolate chip cookies on the table, with a note that read "Missed you! Love you!", next to a National Geographic. Sam picked one up and ate it.
INT. IMPALA - NIGHT
Dean drove while his twins slept. He looked at his watch; it wasn't ticking. He reached for the steering wheel.
EXT. STREET - NIGHT
The Impala made a U-turn.
INT. SAM'S BEDROOM - NIGHT
Sam continued to eat the cookie as he snuck into the bedroom, smiling. The shower was audibly running. Sam sat on the bed, shut his eyes, and flopped onto his back.
Blood dripped onto Sam's forehead, one drop, then another. He flinched and opened his eyes. He gasped in horror. Jess was pinned to the ceiling, staring down at him and bleeding from the belly.
"No!" Sam cried.
Jess burst into flame and the fire spread across the ceiling.
Dean kicked the front door open and yelled, "Sam!"
Sam raised one arm to shield his face. "Jess!"
Dean came running into the bedroom. "Sam! Sam!"
Dean looked up and saw Jess, a look of pure horror on his face.
"No! No!" Sam cried.
Dean grabbed Sam off the bed and bodily shoved him out the door, Sam struggling all the way.
"Jess!" Sam called. "Jess! No!"
Flames engulfed the apartment.
EXT. SAM'S APARTMENT – NIGHT
A fire truck was parked outside the building, firemen and police keeping back gawkers. Dean looked on, then turned and walked back to their car. Sam was standing behind the open trunk, loading a shotgun. Dean looked at the trunk, then at Sam, whose face was set in a mask of desperate anger.
Sam looked up, then sighed, nodded, and tossed the shotgun into the trunk.
"We got work to do," Sam said, shutting the trunk.