I woke up as Dean moved around "Dean?"
Dean motioned for me to stay quiet as he reached for his weapon. We both turned and saw Sam carrying coffee and pastries.
"Morning, sunshine," Sam greeted
"What time is it?" Dean asked
"Uh, it's about five forty-five," as soon as he said that I plopped back on the bed.
"In the morning?"
"Yep,"
"Where does the day go?" I mumbled through the pillow.
Dean pushed me off the bed
"Jokes on you I still have the pillow," I told him as I layed down again.
"Did you get any sleep last night?" Dean questioned
"Yeah, I grabbed a couple of hours," Sam replied.
I didn't answer
"Liar. 'Cause I was up at three, and you were watching a George Foreman infomercial," Dean argued
"Hey, what can I say? It's riveting TV," Sam claimed
"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," Sam told his brother.
"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,"
I looked at Sam worried "Are you still having nightmares about Jess?"
Sam handed me a pastry and Dean a coffee "Yeah. But it's not just her. It's everything. I just forgot you know? This job, it gets to you,"
"You can't let it. You can't bring it home like that," Dean told him
"So, what? All this it... never keeps you up at night?"
Dean shook his head while I shifted my gaze to the ground.
I did have nightmares, nightmares that one day I won't be able to control my wolf side and attack my family. I looked up as Dean's phone rang.
"Hello? Oh, right, yeah. Up in Kittanning, Pennsylvania, the poltergeist thing. It's not back, is it?" Dean asked on the phone
Sam tapped me in the back so I looked up at him "Who is it?"
"Jerry Panowski," I told him
"What is it?" Dean questioned and by his look, I knew it wasn't something good.
"So..." I said hoping for more information once he hung up the phone.
Dean only shrugged and began packing up. As Sam and I just glanced at each other.
***
"Thanks for making the trip so quick. I ought to be doing you guys a favor, not the other way around. Dean, Selina, and your dad really helped me out," Jerry explained to Sam as we walked through the interior of a hangar.
"Yeah, she told me. It was a poltergeist?" Sam said
"Poltergeist? Man, I loved that movie," a worker stated as he walked by.
"Hey, nobody's talking to you. Keep walking." Jerry looked back at Sam "Damn right it was a poltergeist, practically tore our house apart." He turned to me and Dean "Tell you something if it wasn't for you two and your dad, I probably wouldn't be alive." And back at 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 seemed startled by the consolation.
"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 stated
"Well, we're missing the old man, but we get Sam. Even trade, huh?"
"No, not by a long shot,"
"I got something I want you guys to hear," Jerry led us into his office "I listened to this. And, well, it sounded like it was up your alley. 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 played the recording
"Mayday! Mayday! Repeat! This is United Britannia 2485- immediate instruction help! United Britains 2485, I copy your message- May be experiencing some mechanical failure..." the rest was shrouded by 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. 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," Jerry said
"You don't think it was?" Dean asked
Jerry shook his head "No, I don't,"
Sam sighed "Jerry, we're gonna need passenger manifests, um, a list of survivors,"
"Alright,"
"And, uh, anyway we can take a look at the wreckage?"
"The other stuff is no problem. But the wreckage..." Jerry sighed "The NTSB has it locked down in an evidence warehouse. No way I've got that kind of clearance,"
Dean gave us his signature smirk and I knew it meant trouble "No problem,"
***
"You've been in there forever," I told Dean as he came out of the Copy Jack.
"You can't rush perfection," Dean stated as he held up the two IDs
"Homeland Security?" Sam asked as he looked at his "That's pretty illegal, even for us,"
"Yeah, well, it's something new. Do you know? People haven't' seen it a thousand times,"
I looked at the bag and groaned "Why am I getting a bad feeling about what's in that bag,"
Dean smirked as he held up a police dog vest.
"Not happening,"
"Selina... be a team player," Dean told me
"I'm a wolf, not someone's personal dress up chihuahua," I protested.
"Selina," Sam said.
I looked at Sam as he did the puppy dog face. I rolled my eyes as I took the vest "The things I do for you boys," I got into the back seat of the Impala.
"Alright, so, what do you got?" Dean asked
"Well, there's definitely EVP on the cockpit voice recorder," Sam said
"Yeah?"
"Listen,"
Sam played the tape
"No survivors!" A voice said
"No survivors? What's that supposed to mean? There were seven survivors," Dean said
I shrugged "Got me,"
"So, what are you thinking? A haunted flight?" Sam asked
"There's a long history of spirits and death omens on planes and ships, like phantom travelers," I informed, "Or remember flight 401?"
"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 said
"Right. Maybe we got a similar deal,"
"Alright, so, survivors, which one do you want to talk to first?"
"Third on the list: Max Jaffey,"
"Why him?"
"Well, for one, he's from around here. And two, if anyone saw anything weird, he did," Sam replied
"What makes you say that?"
"Well, I spoke to his mother,"
***
I huffed as I walked with the boys in my dog vest, Dean smirking at me as Max explained the story
"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 of questions..." Dean said
Sam cut in "Just before the plane went down, did you notice anything... unusual?"
"Like what?" Max asked
"Strange lights, weird noises, maybe. Voices,"
"No, nothing,"
"Mr. Joffey..."
"Jaffey," he corrected
"Jaffey. You checked yourself in here, right 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?"
"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,"
"He was seeing things," Dean echoed to me and Sam
"It's okay. Then 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." Max explained.
I whimpered at his description of the black eyes, that's exactly how my dreams were.
Dean looked down at me worried "What?"
Max took it as his need to carry on "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,"
"Yeah,"
"This man, uh, did he seem to appear and disappear rapidly? It would look something like a mirage?" Sam asked
"What are you, nuts? He was a passenger. He was sitting right in front of me,"
***
"So here we are. George Phelps, seat 20C," Sam got out of the Impala, Dean looked back at me.
"Selina... you coming," Dean asked
"No, I've got a headache," I lied, but it wasn't a complete lie.
"Alright. We'll be quick... just don't puke in my baby,"
"Glad to see you have your priorities straight," I closed my eyes as he left, but couldn't go to sleep.