Chapter 19: I Am Become Death

 

Tabitha rolled her head back and forth on her shoulders and reached over her head with her arms as she stretched the muscles of her back. Her muscles were achy and felt unsteady like Jell-O, but the sensation was a pleasant reminder of her long run. She considered stopping by their motel room du jour to take a quick shower, but instead walked past the rows of rooms towards the family-style diner just down the street.

Sam and Dean were sure to complain about the fact that she hadn’t stopped to shower before meeting them, but the growl in her stomach was louder than their growls were sure to be, and the need to slake her hunger superseded her desire to wash away a little sweat just for their benefit.

Wiping a few beads of sweat from her forehead with the sleeve of her zip-up sweatshirt, Tabitha prepared to enter the restaurant where Sam had texted her that he and Dean would be waiting for her to join them.

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“Tabitha.”

Jumping at the unexpected voice, Tabitha turned and reached for the small of her back where she normally kept either her Glock 22 or her Smith and Wesson 9mm, but her hand touched only her back. She rarely carried a handgun when she jogged as it was hard to conceal in her running pants and the weight annoyed her, although Dean was always arguing that she should.

“Cas?” she huffed in relief, letting her hands fall against her thighs as she braced herself and leaned down towards the ground. “You about scared the life out of me,” she continued as she straightened up.

His face drew up in his normal confused manner as he stiffly told her, “Forgive me.”

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But she waved it off. “What are you doing here?” she asked instead. Not that she was complaining, but she hadn’t seen him in a few days and they were trying to be discreet about their meetings.

“Heaven requires you and your brothers to handle a…situation for us,” Castiel almost formally explained.

“So why are you here asking just me? Why aren’t you asking Dean? Seems to me that he’s the one more important to Heaven. After all, you did pull him outta Hell.” She’d given the matter a lot of consideration and although Castiel was protecting her as well, Dean still seemed to be the more important one. He was the one yanked out of Hell, and he was the one that the angel had taken back in time to learn more about their family’s history.

“I’m asking you.”

Some locals stumbled out of the little diner, prompting Tabitha to move towards the alley next to it to be less conspicuous, motioning the angel to follow her.

“I’m not sure I like the sound of ‘Heaven’ ‘requiring’ us to do something. Last time, it was you guys wanting to kill some girl,” she told him as she crossed her arms over her chest. She trusted Castiel, but that didn’t necessarily extend to the rest of his Feathered Band of Brothers. And she didn’t miss that Heaven was behind this request. Not Castiel.

The angel became very still as he stared at her, only his hands flexing ever so slightly at his sides. “She was no ‘girl,'” he answered with a quiet intensity.

“No. But you guys were still trying to kill her.”

“I follow orders.”

She ignored his usual warning, leaning slightly forward as she reminded him, “I don’t have to.”

“You’ll not help?”

She gave a tired sigh. “Can’t you even trust me a little bit now? After everything. I just want to know if what ‘Heaven’ wants us to do is gonna be like the Anna situation all over again.”

“Where you tricked me?” he asked with a slight edge.

Clenching her hands on her arms in frustration, she again admonished, “Still not apologizing for that. Like it or not, I did it for your good, too. I just want to know what Heaven is asking my brothers and me to walk into.”

“You think I would send you needlessly into perilous danger?” he asked, his expression darkening more.

Forcing herself to relax slightly, Tabitha rubbed at the tension behind her forehead. “You? No. But you made a point in saying that ‘Heaven’ is requesting this. Not you. Forgive me if I don’t trust the rest of the angels like I do you. Especially after all of your warnings about not ever letting them find out about me and what I can do, or even about you and me,” she told him, gesturing her hand in the space between them, though the width of the alley separated them.

Silence hung over the alley like a pall, and Tabitha fought to keep from nervously fidgeting in the heavy air crowding around them. Still, she shifted her weight slightly from side to side as she stared across at Castiel, the angel not moving a muscle or even blinking.

Finally, he said, “You’ll not help.”

She sighed. “Cas,” she carefully began. “I know things are different now between the two of us, and I do trust you. More I think sometimes than you trust me. But it doesn’t mean that I’m gonna fall in line and do whatever Heaven asks just for the asking. I don’t trust them. Besides, maybe it would be best if you went to Dean straightaway. He and I are still trying to iron out our differences and keep from jumping all over each other. I come to him and tell him that the angels want us to do something, and it’s gonna start trouble up all over again between him and I. Just talk to Dean about whatever it is Heaven wants. Don’t put me in the middle.”

Castiel stared across the alley for several tense moments, and then from one blink to the next, disappeared amidst the faint fluttering of wings.

“Dammit,” Tabitha quietly cursed to herself. She didn’t want to cause trouble between herself and Castiel—her relationship with him had been the one constant, steady point in her life while everything was so tense between her and her brothers—but she also wasn’t going to just blindly follow orders from Heaven just because she’d started sleeping with him.

Running her hand through her flyaway hairs, she muttered, “Maybe things are simpler with celibacy. If only I could figure out how to live celibate.”

Her brothers looked up from their table as she walked into the diner, Dean jerking his head towards the empty seat beside him where one of them had ordered a burger for her.

“You stink,” he muttered as she sat down.

She shrugged and began digging into her burger as she listened to Sam talking on his cell. “And you always smell like a bed of roses,” she retorted absently. When he grunted in return, she turned away from Sam’s conversation—she was pretty sure he was talking to Bobby anyway—and looked at Dean. “Besides, I was hungry after my run. I’ll shower next.”

Sam finally ended his call and looked back at his siblings.

“What’s up?” Tabitha asked him.

Sam sighed as he shoved his phone into his pocket. “Oh. Bobby found something in Wyoming,” he answered, looking at his laptop on the table.

“A job?” Dean asked him.

“Maybe.”

Tabitha continued eating her own burger, snatching some onion rings off Dean’s plate and wishing he’d gotten her some instead of fries. “Go on,” she encouraged him, ignoring Dean slapping at her hand.

Sam smiled a little at their byplay, but didn’t lift his eyes from his laptop as he explained, “Small town, no one’s died in the past week and a half.”

Dean looked confused. “That so unusual?” he asked around his mouthful of burger.

Answering without looking up from his computer, Sam said, “Well, it’s how they’re not dying. One guy with terminal cancer strolls right out of hospice; another guy gets capped by a mugger and walks away without a scratch.”

Tabitha frowned as she tried to search her mind for answers, but caught the sly smile on Dean’s face beside her as he asked, “Capped in the ass?”

Per usual, Sam ignored their brother’s suspect humor. “‘Police say Mr. Jenkins was shot in the heart at point-blank range by a 9mm,'” he explained in a voice that said he was quoting something, likely a news article from the tone of it.

“And he walked away after a 9mm slug went through his heart?” Tabitha asked in surprise. “No way,” she said as she shook her head.

“Locals are saying it’s a miracle,” Sam answered.

“Okay,” Dean shrugged, turning back to his food.

Sam closed his laptop and leaned towards them over the table, asking almost conspiratorially, “It’s got to be something nasty, right? I mean, people making deals or something.”

“Could be,” Tabitha agreed. “Can’t rule it out, but people usually make crossroad deals to get something specific. I mean, you guys haven’t ever run across someone that asked for something like invincibility or anything. Have you? And more than one person suddenly becoming unkillable. Doesn’t quite add up to a crossroad deal.”

Sam thoughtfully nodded, but Dean kept chewing on his burger, shrugging as he carelessly spoke. “You think?”

Frowning, Sam asked, “But what else would it be?”

“I don’t know,” Dean answered, his mouth once more full.

Tabitha was used to his lacking manners, but still cringed at his careless attitude. Though they’d all agreed that what happened and was said during the siren case wasn’t to be taken seriously, there had still been a thick, uncomfortable cloud hanging over the Winchesters. They all seemed to agree not to speak about it, as was usual with the Winchesters, but ignoring the issue didn’t seem to be resolving it as easily as it normally did.

Staring at Dean for a moment, Sam seemed to consider their brother, but finally turned away and began packing his laptop, briskly telling his siblings, “All right. You guys get that stuff to go. Come on.”

Sam stood and grabbed his laptop case as Tabitha quickly took another bite of her burger, grabbing a handful of fries as she stood.

But they both froze and turned to Dean when they realized he wasn’t moving.

“What?” Sam demanded.

Dean swallowed and looked around as he finally answered. “Sure you guys want me going with you?”

“Why wouldn’t we?” Sam asked in surprise.

“I don’t know,” Dean answered. “I don’t want to be holding you back or nothing.”

Sam huffed as he replied, “Dude, I’ve told you a hundred times, that was the siren talking, not me. Can we get past this?”

Dean stared for a moment too long, and Tabitha responded by smacking both of her brothers in the back of the head, ignoring their winces at her unexpected hits. “Would the both of you please grow the hell up. I’m tired of this getting hashed over again and again. It’s over…and it’s done. Let’s forget about what’s already happened and focus on this case Bobby’s throwing our way.”

Dean set the remainder of his burger down, brushing his hands off. “Yeah, we’re past it.”

“Good,” she replied, reaching across him and picking up her own burger again. “Now, you boys go pack up the car, and I’ll run back to the room and take a quick shower before we head out.”

She didn’t wait for their response, but quickly jogged in the direction of the motel.

A part of her felt bad for not taking whatever case it was that Castiel had come to talk to her about, but she couldn’t imagine how much trouble Dean would be making over matters if she had been the one to bring something to the table now instead of Bobby. Dean was prickly enough at the moment that she swore he was just looking for a fight, and she’d rather not throw herself in the line of fire by even hinting to him that she might be bringing a case to the table that was from the angels.


“Now, you three said you were bloggers?”

Sam nodded eagerly as Jim Jenkins sat down next to Tabitha and across from her brothers at his dining room table. “Yes, sir. Floored by The Lord dot com.”

Dean nodded as well as he added, “All of God’s glory fit to blog.”

Clearing her throat at the unbelievable cheesiness of their current cover, Tabitha placed a calming hand on Jim’s arm as she probed. “Some of the people around town are saying that what happened to you was a miracle, and we’d sure love to hear about it.”

Jim nodded beside her. “It was. Plain as day.”

“How can you be so sure?” Sam somewhat skeptically asked.

Jim countered, “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 asked in return.

Tabitha made a face at his tone across the table, but quickly turned to Jim and gently told him, “What he means is, how do you think such a miracle occurred?”

Jim looked around the table at his three guests, then into the other room where his wife and children were quietly playing. With a tired sigh he admitted, “Look, honestly, I was nobody’s saint—not exactly father of the year, either.”

“Okay,” Dean encouraged.

“But when that guy shot me and I didn’t bleed a drop? I just knew The Lord was giving me a second chance,” Jim explained.

Tabitha frowned at the man’s conviction, wondering to herself it was possible that he was right. Perhaps God had granted mercy to this man and given him a second chance. He seemed repentant and genuine in wanting to be a better father for his kids.

And she wondered to herself about her own second chance. And third and so on. She should have been dead several times over, but instead was sitting in poor Jim’s dining room helping her brother interrogate him. If Jim thought he should dedicate himself to being a better father with his second chance, what was it she was meant to do with her own?

She hadn’t even agreed to help the angel who had given her that second, third, and fourth chance. With the angel, she had hesitated and even been unwilling to help him with the problem he’d come to her with. Instead jumping at the case that Bobby had thrown their way. She owed Castiel her life and more, shouldn’t she have been more open to whatever problem he’d been coming to her with?

Tabitha realized that the conversation had continued around her despite her inner thoughts, and she started paying attention as she heard Sam asking Jim about crossroads and people with black or red eyes.

It was a reach, but she uncrossed and re-crossed her legs, managing to stretch her leg kitty-corner across the table to kick her younger brother in the shins for his too blunt questions.

Jim looked wary and suspicious anyway as he leaned across towards Sam. “Who’d you guys say you were again?”

With her practiced smile, Tabitha kindly told him, “Never mind. We just want to thank you for your time and we’ll be on our way.” She stood with her brothers and tried to discreetly shoo them out the door and hide her frustration with Sam’s less than stealthy questioning.


Tabitha ruefully shook her head as she helped Sam lay everything out on the grave. They’d decided that they needed to know more about the last person in Greybull, Wyoming to die, and that had been a boy named Cole Griffith. It had been Sam’s bright idea to use a spell that would allow them to talk to the spirit of the dead boy himself. Sam theorized that something might be going on with the grim reaper that should be reaping souls in the town.

“You guys sure this is gonna work?” she asked as she fought to keep from shivering. It wasn’t the cold that brought the sensation of chill on, but rather what they were doing in a cemetery in the middle of the night. Digging up bones to put a spirit to rest was one thing, but actually conjuring a spirit was another matter in her opinion.

Dean looked up from where he sat on a headstone thumbing through their father’s journal, and shrugged in response to her question, turning towards Sam, whose idea it had been to try this spell in the first place.

“No,” Sam replied. “But if his spirit is around, this should smoke him out.”

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Tabitha finished lighting candles as her younger brother finished pouring ingredients into bowls.

Dean huffed from where he sat.

“What?” Sam huffed in return.

“This job is jacked. That’s what,” Dean answered.

“How so?”

Tabitha rolled her eyes at Sam’s answer.

“Really, Sam? Look around. We’re trying to perform a spell to conjure some boy’s spirit. Not your normal sibling Friday night on the town,” Tabitha answered with a gesture.

“Yeah,” Dean agreed. “You want me to gank a monster or torch a corpse, hey, let’s light it up. Right? But this? If we fix whatever this is, people are gonna start dropping dead. Good people.”

Sam gave an exasperated sigh as he stood from his crouch. “Look, I don’t want them to die, either, Dean, but there’s a natural order.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Dean interrupted in disbelief.

“What?”

“You don’t see the irony in that?” Dean demanded. “I mean, you and me, we’re like the poster boys of the unnatural order. All we do is ditch death.”

“Yeah, but the normal rules don’t really apply to us, do they?” Sam answered.

Dean gave a dark chuckle in return. “We’re no different than anybody else.”

“I’m infected with demon blood. You’ve been to Hell. Tabitha’s got demons chasing after her for some reason we don’t even know, and can hear angels. Look, I know you want to think of yourself as Joe the Plumber, Dean, but you’re not. Neither am I. And neither is Tabitha. The sooner you accept that, the better off you’re gonna be.”

“Ah, Joe the Plumber was a douche,” Dean answered in exasperation.

Tabitha stood and walked a little closer to her brothers. “Sam’s right, Dean. We’re not normal anymore. If we ever were. I may not have died like you two have done—” Though I’ve been damn close and would have been if not for a certain angel. “—but I’m not normal either. We can’t change it. Just try to do what we can with the second chances we’ve been given.”

And she decided to herself that she would make things right with Castiel as well. Maybe try to get a hold of him when they were done with their current case and try to help him with whatever he’d come to her about. She’d still be cautious about taking on something “Heaven” wanted them to do, but she’d help her friend if she could.

“You guys gonna help me finish this?” Sam was asking.

Dean finally stood from the headstone, and Tabitha turned back to examine the candles she’d lit. One had blown out, so she crouched to light it again.

“Hey!” a man suddenly called out to them.

The Winchesters all turned to see who was approaching.

“What are you doing here?” the man demanded, sweeping across them with his flashlight.

“Uh, just…” Sam stuttered. “Take it easy.”

The man continued sweeping across them with the flashlight, causing Tabitha to shield her eyes so she could protect her night vision as he continued asking, “What the hell is this?”

“Okay, this—this—” Dean started. “This is not what it looks like.”

“We’re just trying to hold a memorial,” Tabitha attempted, hoping the man wouldn’t come close enough to see the pentagram.

The man gave a derisive snort. “‘Cause it looks like devil worship.”

Dean gave a theatrical denial. “What? No! No, this is not devil worship. This—this is—this—this is, uh…” Dean looked across at his brother and sister. “I don’t have a good answer.”

Sam sighed and looked back across at the man. “Look, we’re leaving.”

Shaking his head, the man told them, “You’re not going anywhere…” He stepped closer to them as he continued. “…ever again…Sam.”

He turned to look at Dean, his eyes turning a sickly white to mark him as a high-level demon.

“Alastair,” Dean grimly greeted.

His eyes returned to their normal human appearance as he glanced at the last Winchester. “Tabitha. The tricky Winchester.”

“So lovely to see you again,” she answered, hoping her voice sounded cool and calm.

Dean spoke before Alastair could answer. “I thought you got deep fried, extra-crispy.”

“Nah,” Alastair answered, shaking his head. “Just the pediatrician I was riding. His wife’s still looking for him. It’s hilarious. Anyway…no time to chat. Got a hot date with death.”

The demon lifted his hand, and suddenly Dean sailed through the air, slamming into a headstone fifteen feet behind him. Tabitha had been standing beside him, and braced herself when Alastair turned to her, but when the demon raised his hand at her, nothing happened, just like the last time he’d tried to fling her.

Sam shouted their brother’s name, bringing the demon’s attention back to him. Alastair lifted his hand in the same motion, flicking his hand at Sam.

Spinning, Tabitha turned and ran for their pile of supplies, reaching for one of the sawed-offs from the stack. She had her .40 tucked into the back of her jeans, but it would do nothing to the demon. But as she swung the shotgun up, Alastair appeared at her elbow, knocking the shotgun away, his other fist sailing into her jaw.

Tabitha fell to her knees but her head was yanked up as the demon grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked until she was facing her younger brother.

Sam stood where he had been, staring at them in shock. She was surprised to see him still standing, she’d been so sure that Alastair had flung Sam like he’d done with Dean—like she’d seen him do to Sam before—but Sam was still on his feet.

Giving a yank on her hair, and roughly pulling some from her scalp, Alastair told Sam, “You’re stronger, Sam. But it’s no little trinket that’s stopping me like with your bitch sister, is it?” He shook her a little, causing Tabitha to grimace as she tried to pry his hold from her head. Alastair continued. “You’ve been soloflexing with your little slut?”

“You have no idea,” Sam answered.

Tabitha had begun discreetly reaching into her pocket when she realized the demon was more focused on her brother than her. As the demon went to shake her again, freed her switchblade and jabbed her arm upward over her head in an awkward stab at the demon’s arm, losing her hold on her knife as he released her with a surprised grunt of pain.

Rolling away, she came to her feet as she saw Sam flick his fingers at Alastair, flinging the demon further away from her and holding him against a tree. He raised his hand further, but before he could do anything, the demon disappeared out of the man in a rush of black smoke.

Falling back to her knees, Tabitha stared at her younger brother as he jogged up to her.

“You okay?” he demanded, grabbing her jaw and turning her to look at the other side of her face without waiting for an answer. “You’re bleeding.”

She absently touched the side of her mouth, feeling a trickle of blood there. But the pain hadn’t set in yet. Maybe it was shock.

“What did you do?” she whispered to her brother.

His gaze darkened a bit as he held her stare. “Nothing. Just trying to protect you.” He stood as he answered, obviously trying to move away from her.

She stood as well. “What the hell was that, Sam? How’d you keep him from flinging you around?”

Running a hand through his hair, Sam returned, “What about you? He couldn’t fling you, either.”

“Yeah, and we’re pretty sure it’s something on my bracelet. Don’t change the subject. What’s going on?” she demanded as she stalked closer.

He turned away. “It doesn’t matter, Tab.” When she started after him, he swung around to face her, angrily telling her, “Stop asking. Or I’ll start asking where you’ve been disappearing to and what you’ve been doing. This is my business, Tab. Just like whatever you’re doing is yours.”

She made a frustrated noise and looked away. Her eyes landed on Dean, reminding her that she’d been caught up in what Sam had done and hadn’t even thought of her older brother.

Kneeling beside him, she gingerly shook his shoulder to rouse him. “Dean? Dean. You okay?”

His eyes fluttered open. “My head hurts.” But he sat up and looked around in a dazed fashion.

She heard Sam’s phone ring, but kept her eyes trained on Dean as she helped steady him. He didn’t seem real focused yet, and Tabitha wasn’t even sure he knew where he was.

After a few minutes, Sam stepped closer, sliding his phone into his jeans and cleaning Tabitha’s switchblade on his pant leg before handing it to her and telling them, “We should get out of here. That guy will be okay, but we can’t be here when he wakes up.”


“How you guys doing?” Sam asked as he stepped back into the motel room.

Dean was lying on one of the beds with an ice pack to his head and didn’t look up. But Tabitha was reclined against the headboard of the other bed, her head tilted back as she held an ice pack to her jaw.

She shrugged as she answered. “Been hit harder. It was an awkward hit since I’d started to turn away from it.”

“You’re lucky,” Dean said, still not looking at them. “You could have been flung into a gravestone like me. I think I’ve got a concussion. That’s how I’m doing.”

“You want some aspirin?” Sam asked.

“No thanks, House,” Dean replied.

Tossing down her ice pack, Tabitha stood and moved over to her brother’s bed, pulling his ice pack and hand away to look at him. She didn’t have a flashlight, so she used the light of her cell phone in one hand as pried one eye open and then the other as Dean tried to push her away.

“No concussion,” she told him. “Probably that famously thick skull of yours that protected you.”

He laughed mockingly in return as Tabitha sat beside him, her eyes trained on her bracelet as she considered the charms. “Maybe we could try to replicate the charms on this thing for you guys.”

Dean shook his head. “We’ve been over this, Tab. Until we can find something that explains what those charms are or what went into making them, it would be too dangerous to try replicating them. Might do it wrong and make a charm that attracts demons or something else pleasant like that.”

Tabitha sighed but didn’t argue further. It had been a half-hearted suggestion anyway since she agreed with Dean’s worries. She just felt guilty about his aches. But her jaw was a reminder that the bracelet only protected from so much. She stood and leaned against the wall as she thought.

Changing the subject, she told her brothers, “Well, at least we know now that people in this town not dying isn’t likely to be because of miracles.”

Dean agreed as he finally sat up. “Yeah, demons, I guess.”

The siblings nodded in quiet agreement.

“And what the hell happened with Alastair again?” Dean asked.

Sam gave a little shrug. “I told you, he tried to fling me or whatever, and it didn’t work, so he bailed.”

Tabitha opened her mouth to contradict her younger brother, but Sam had been moving across the room and came to stand beside her, throwing a subtle elbow into her side while Dean looked down at his hands in confusion. She shot her younger brother a glare, but he only stared down at her with one challenging brow raised.

She held his glare and finally mouthed back to him, “For now.” She knew she shouldn’t keep her silence, but she wasn’t altogether certain if Dean knowing the truth would actually help matters. They needed to concentrate on what the demons were doing first, so she let his lie pass.

“Well, how come he couldn’t fling you?” Dean was asking, drawing their attention back to him as he looked up again. “He chucked you pretty good last time.”

“Got no idea,” Sam told him.

A hard look filled Dean’s face, proving that he wasn’t unaware of their brother’s lie. “Sam, do me a favor. If you’re gonna keep your little secrets, I can’t really stop you, but just don’t treat me like an idiot, okay?” His gaze swept across to encompass Tabitha as well, and she looked down at her feet rather than meeting his look.

“What?” Sam tried to deny. “Dean, I’m not keeping secrets.”

“Mm-hmm,” Dean hummed in disbelief, turning the look on his sister.

Still not looking up, she whispered, “Anything I’m keeping from you is to keep the two of you safer, or is just plain things you really don’t want to know.”

“Whatever,” Dean dismissively said. He changed the subject. “So, did you guys go back and Q and A the dead kid?”

“Didn’t have to,” Sam answered. “Bobby called. He did some digging.”

“And?” Dean pressed.

Sam moved to sit on the bed across from Dean, leaving Tabitha still leaning against the wall by herself.

“He thinks I’m right,” Sam was saying. “Local reaper’s gone. Not just gone—kidnapped.”

“By demons?” Dean asked. “Why?”

“How?” Tabitha added. “I thought you couldn’t even see the things unless they were about to reap you.”

Sam opened the old text he’d been holding in his hands. “Listen to this, ‘And he bloodied Death under the newborn sky—sweet to taste, but bitter when once devoured.'”

“Swanky,” Dean commented. “What the hell’s that mean?”

“Well, it’s from a very obscure, very arcane version of Revelations,” Sam answered.

“Holy shit,” Tabitha whispered.

She hustled over to her bags, Sam and Dean turning to watch her, each asking what was wrong. Her clothes spilled out of her bag as she dug to the bottom, coming up with the old Campbell family bible she’d continued to carry.

“I’ve read that passage in here,” she told them as she thumbed through the book looking for the passage under Revelations. “Here,” she told them, holding the text out and pointing to the passage and the faded drawing next to it. It showed a shrouded figure on a mountaintop, beneath a low hanging moon. The drawing had the obligatory scythe that one thought of with a reaper, but this drawing didn’t have the figure holding a scythe, but instead the scythe was turned towards the shrouded figure.

The boys looked at the passage and the drawing before Dean leaned back and said, “Which means what I think it means?”

Sam and Tabitha both nodded as Sam answered, “Basically, you kill a reaper under the solstice moon—tomorrow night, by the way—you got yourself a broken seal.”

Dean looked surprised. “How do you ice a reaper? You can’t kill Death.”

“I don’t know,” said Sam. “Maybe demons can.”

Tabitha looked at the drawing again. “Maybe this is telling more than we think. Maybe you can kill one with a scythe.”

Dean glanced dubiously at the drawing. “A scythe? I don’t know about that.”

Sam shook his head and closed the book in his hands. “Where the hell are the angels is what I want to know. We could use their help for once.”

Tabitha’s head snapped up to look at her brother, wondering to herself if this wasn’t the reason Castiel had come to her in the first place. But before she said anything to her brothers, she needed to find out from the angel if she was right.

Dean said in answer to Sam, “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?” Sam asked.

“You got a better idea, I’m all ears.”

“Dean, reapers are invisible,” Tabitha repeated. “The only people that can see them are the dead and the dying.”

“Well, if ghosts are the only ones that can see them…” Dean began.

“Yeah?” Sam asked in disbelief.

“…Then we become ghosts,” Dean finished.

Tabitha shook her head as she stood up. “Maybe you do have a concussion, Dean. And you were right; this job is messed up if that seems like a rational answer to this problem. Hell, that it’s even a solution to any problem is messed up.” She shook her head and then lightly touched her jaw when the motion hurt. “I think I need a drink.”

Dean only grinned as he answered, “Sounds crazy, I know.”

“It is crazy,” Sam agreed. “How?”

“We’ll need a little help from a certain psychic,” Dean answered.

Both of the brothers glanced up at Tabitha.

“What?” she asked.

“You wanna go pick Pamela up?” Dean asked. “You guys are friends after all.”

Immediately, she shook her head. “This is your bright idea. You go sell it to her.” Besides, she wasn’t very excited about the idea of seeing her friend at the moment. The psychic—blind or not—saw and knew too much. And she wasn’t looking forward to the lecture that she knew she was bound to receive from the woman about her recent activities with Castiel.

Dean tossed down his ice pack and stood. “Fine. I’ll go get her then.”


2

“You gonna keep trying to ignore me?”

Tabitha considered doing just that, but finally turned around to lean back against the wall next to the window she’d been staring out.

“Doesn’t sound like a half bad idea,” she told the psychic sitting in a chair at the foot of Sam’s bed. She glanced at her younger brother, but looked away with a frown, finding it strange to think that her brothers’ bodies were laid out on the bed while their spirits were who knows where. It seemed more than a little creepy to her.

In truth, she’d been trying to call out to Castiel for hours—had gone for several walks trying to call for him as well—but the angel either wasn’t hearing her, or wasn’t answering her. Maybe the latter was closer to the truth, and that was what worried her. She wasn’t sure if Castiel was mad at her for their last discussion, but she worried that she’d damaged their friendship.

“You still mad at your brothers for not letting you go on this little spirit journey with them?”

Frowning, Tabitha truthfully answered, “Yeah. Of course I am.” But she sighed and followed with, “I understand though, even if I don’t like it. I get that they wanted me to stay here with you since this is dangerous. Understanding the practicality behind something like that doesn’t equate to being happy with it though.”

Pamela tilted her head slightly as she leaned more heavily on her fold-up cane. She was silent for a minute, but Tabitha could see that she was gearing up to tell her something.

“And here I figured you were staring out that window to avoid talking to me about what you’ve got going on with that angel boy of yours.”

Tabitha crossed her legs and slouched more against the wall, folding her arms over her chest and trying not to dig her fingers into her biceps.

“Not going to try to deny it?” Pamela asked, turning her sunglass covered eyes to stare at Tabitha.

She forced an easy shrug, knowing she was anything but easy. “Doesn’t sound like there’s any use denying it.”

“Dammit Tabitha,” Pamela sighed, “What the hell are you doing? I warned you. I warned you that you were getting in over your head. You tried to say nothing was happening, and now…now you’re sleeping with an angel. What the hell is in that head of yours? You didn’t think you were living a dangerous enough life? Thought you’d make it even more dangerous by letting an angel into your bed?”

Tabitha pushed away from the wall, making an angry motion with her hand as she said, “Enough. Enough, Pamela. You’ve made your position and thoughts very clear. But I don’t recall asking your opinion. And I’m not getting into anything. He’s still just a friend—”

“A friend!” Pamela interrupted with a mirthless laugh. “You’re kidding, right? You’re not just friends now. And if you think so, you’re fooling yourself.”

Pacing, Tabitha told her, “We’re still just friends. Don’t make more out of it than it is. It’s not like we’re madly infatuated and professing our undying love. We’re friends.”

Pamela placed both of her hands on top of her cane, slowly moving the top of the cane around in a circle as she leaned back and replied, “Honey, friends with benefits doesn’t even work when it’s just two humans involved. This is deep water you’re getting into and I’m just worried about how well you can swim in the ocean.”

Feeling a little deflated, Tabitha stopped pacing and answered, “I appreciate the concern, Pamela, but I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”

Pulling down her sunglasses, Pamela showed her false white eyes. “Yeah. I know just how fine a person can be when dealing with angels.”

An uncomfortable silence filled the air. Tabitha began idly pacing around the room again as Pamela continued to comfortably wait at the end of the beds. She kept glancing at her brothers laid out on the two beds, but had to fight a shiver every time she looked at their still forms. She tried reminding herself that they were alive and well, but couldn’t fight off the creepiness of it.

“You’re sure they’re spirits or whatever and that they’re okay?” she couldn’t help but asking again.

“They’re fine,” Pamela told her, but then reconsidered and said with a smirk, “Well, just as fine as they ever are I guess. Whether or not they’re figuring anything out…well…your guess is as good as mine.”

For a while, Tabitha contented herself with pacing throughout the room, but finally, her nerves couldn’t take it anymore. Pulling on her leather coat, she told the psychic. “I’m going out. I can’t sit here any longer. I’m gonna see if I can go talk to Cole’s mom and find anything helpful.”

With a challenging look, Pamela asked, “You sure you should? Your brothers won’t like you going off on your own with demons around. But then…there’s a fair bit that you’re not telling them, isn’t there?”

Pausing in the doorway, Tabitha turned back to her friend, but didn’t rise to her bait. “You going to be all right here?” When Pamela nodded, Tabitha told her, “I’ve got my cell if you need anything.”


“Mrs. Griffith, I’m Demetria Gene Guynes. I’m sorry for bothering you today, but I just wanted to see if you could spare a few minutes of your time?” Tabitha asked when the woman opened her inner door and stared out through her screen door.

The woman regarded her silently for a moment, but then pushed the screen door open as she drew her sweater closer about her torso. “What can I do for you, Ms. Guynes?” she finally asked, her voice slightly hoarse and breaking as though she’d been a smoker, or—as evident by the red and swollen eyes—like she’d been crying.

It almost seemed like a struggle for the woman to talk, and she dropped her eyes as if she was in danger of breaking into tears again.

“Ma’am, are you okay?” Tabitha couldn’t help asking, reaching forward to lay a gentle hand on the woman’s arms crossed over her torso.

The woman waved it away. “I’m fine. Fine,” she insisted, sniffling and swiping at her nose and eyes. “Now, what did you want?”

Tabitha had been prepared to tell some lie to the woman, but seeing how broken up she was, suddenly couldn’t go through with it. “You’re taking your son’s death pretty hard, aren’t you Mrs. Cole. Can I ask you a question?”

She looked confused, and nervously pulled her sweater tighter around her as she leaned against the doorjamb, slowly saying, “Yes. Any mother would find their son’s death difficult.” She sniffled again. “Who did you say you were?”

“Someone who might be able to help.”

“What’s your question?” she asked after a few beats.

“Can you still feel your son here? Sense that he’s still around?” Tabitha asked, weighing all the signs and almost certain she was seeing more than just a grieving mother. She was seeing a woman tormented by a spirit that couldn’t let go.

Clutching at her chest, the woman whispered with an edge of desperation, “How did you know? How?”

“I know a little something about these things,” Tabitha whispered in return. “Can I take a look at your son’s room by any chance? Maybe look around the house?”

She jerked her head in an affirmative. “Yes. That’s fine. Just go on in. There’s no one else home. Just…go on in.”

The woman then stepped away from the house, pushing past Tabitha.

“Where are you going?” she asked the woman as she retreated from her own home.

“I just…I just can’t stay. I have to leave for a little while.” And the woman was gone before Tabitha could say anything else.

Covert Affairs

“All right,” she slowly whispered to herself, opening the door and letting herself in.

But she froze as she turned away from the door and into the house.

“I didn’t realize there was still anyone here,” she cautiously explained to the woman standing in the middle of the foyer.

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The woman seemed suddenly surprised, glancing all around her as though she wasn’t sure whom Tabitha was talking to.

“Mrs. Griffith said that there wasn’t anyone in the house,” Tabitha continued, slowly reaching her hand underneath her leather coat at the small of her back as she stared at the strange woman. She was shorter than Tabitha, with dark hair that fell past her shoulders and accentuated her soft features well. But the cool metal grip of her smaller, compact Smith and Wesson .40 was reassuring beneath Tabitha’s fingertips. Because the woman in front of her and her reaction definitely put her on edge.

“You shouldn’t be able to see me,” the woman said with a frown, tugging a little on her brown leather jacket.

“Yeah…well…I do,” Tabitha slowly told her.

The woman looked off to the side a little, almost as if she was looking at something Tabitha couldn’t see and hearing something she couldn’t.

The woman’s eyes tracked back to Tabitha as she looked her up and down in an assessing manner. At least assessing in the way a jockey sized up a horse. “So. You’re Tabitha Winchester. Sister to the infamous Sam and Dean Winchester.”

Her comment was the last strike for Tabitha, and she smoothly drew her .40, taking aim at the woman. “Wonderful,” she replied, staring down the barrel held in her two-handed grip. “Now…who—or what—the hell are you? And how do you know who I am?”

Thinking it might be a demon, she switched the gun to one hand, reaching into her jacket for her flask of Holy Water.

The woman watched her movements with an almost amused eye. “I’m not a demon,” she told her with a nod at the flask. “That Holy Water won’t even get me wet.”

For good measure, Tabitha tossed the Holy Water at the woman anyway. Only…it went right through the woman. As if she were a ghost. But she didn’t seem to have the same angry vibe that most ghosts powerful enough to manifest gave off.

“What the hell are you?” she repeated, lowering both of her hands a bit.

“You can call me Tessa,” the woman answered. “It’s one of the names I’ve been known by. As for what…well…I’m a reaper.”

Swallowing thickly, Tabitha replied, “Not quite what I expected. I figured you’d be a little more…grim. And a little less girl-next-door.”

The woman laughed softly in return. “I have many forms.”

“Well, we’ve been looking for you,” Tabitha continued. “Seems the demons are trying to kidnap you. My brothers are supposed to be running around as spirits or something looking for you. Or what happened, I guess.”

The woman—Tessa—glanced off to the side again, the corner of her mouth pulling up before she turned back to Tabitha. “Oh, I know. Ran into them here a little while ago. Although Dean keeps ranting about how you aren’t supposed to be here.”

Tabitha’s eyes jerked back to where Tessa had been looking. “They’re here?”

“Yeah.”

“This is just creepy,” Tabitha swallowed.

Tessa gave a little laugh and stepped closer. “Interesting that you can see me so well though. I’m a reaper. You shouldn’t be able to see me. Not right now. I wonder why you can.”

The reaper slowly began to circle around Tabitha—who, unnerved by the casual perusal, shoved her gun back into the waist of her jeans, and quickly turned in a circle with the reaper. “How is that even possible?” she asked the other woman. “People die every day. How is it that I’m just now suddenly actually seeing a reaper?”

Tessa shook her head. “I don’t know. You shouldn’t be able to. No human can. Unless they’re dead or dying.”

“I know that,” Tabitha huffed. “So why am I suddenly seeing you?”

Tessa glanced away again—presumably at Dean—and then back to Tabitha. “You wouldn’t have suddenly started seeing reapers. If you can see me now, you’ve always been able to. The why I can’t answer. But I’m guessing you just never realized you were seeing us. We don’t exactly hang around to chat for a long time—your brothers apparently are the exception—we normally have a lot of work to do. You probably have seen a flash of us from the corner of your eye and just easily dismissed it.”

Thinking back, Tabitha wondered if Tessa was right. She’d sworn she had seen something from the corner of her eye after Casey had been killed in that explosion. But she’d written it off as just an after-flash in her sight from the flash of the blast that had blown the building. Of course, she’d only months ago learned that Castiel had been the one to kill Casey and that it had been because her partner was possessed.

Feeling a headache coming on at the dizzying thoughts, Tabitha rubbed her forehead. “This is crazy,” she whispered to herself. But maybe it wasn’t so much crazier than seeing angels.

Looking up, she got back to the more pressing issue. “Do you know what’s going on in this town? Did the demons grab the reaper that should have been here reaping people?”

With an unconcerned shrug, Tessa answered, “I don’t know what’s going on here. Just that this town is off the rails and I’m trying to get it back in order.” She looked off to the side again and sighed. “Although Dean reminds me that I’ve agreed not to reap the boy until he can figure out what’s going on.”

“Cole?”

“Yes.”

“So let’s figure out what’s going on.”

Tessa looked over again and sighed, relaying another message from Dean. “Your brother wants you to get back to Pamela and stay with her.”

Ignoring the directive, Tabitha asked, “If the demons do have the other reaper, how could they have gotten him or her or even be holding the reaper for that matter?”

With a little chuckle as she glanced where Tabitha assumed Dean was, Tessa returned her attention to Tabitha, seeming to ignore Dean just as Tabitha was. Of course, Tabitha was finding it easier than normal to ignore her older brother. It was amazing how easily it was now that he had no form.

“It’s not easy to hold one of us,” Tess told her. “But there are a few ways. But I’d be surprised that any of the demons would know them.”

Before Tabitha could reply, the front door of the house slammed open, a rush of black smoke spilling into the room and swelling around the foyer. Tabitha threw her arms over her head to ward against the smoke, but as suddenly as it had come, it rushed back out the door. And when Tabitha raised her head again, Tessa was gone.

“Shit!” Tabitha swore. “That’s probably not good.”

She looked around the room, suddenly regretting her selfish little pleasure in not being able to see her brothers.

“I don’t know if you guys can hear me,” she told the room at large, not sure if they were even still there. “But we’re in big trouble now, aren’t we?” Silence met her. “My gut says to trust that you guys can keep doing whatever you’re doing in the astral plane or wherever you are, so I’m gonna do what I can in the physical one. Maybe I can find something that’s out of place in this town.”

She headed for the door, and as she opened it, fought back a chill as her body involuntarily shivered and goosebumps broke out. In her mind, she could imagine Dean yelling at her to do what he’d told her before and stay at the motel with Pamela. And the thought brought the ghost of a smile to her lips.

“Sorry guys,” she whispered. “But since I can’t even say for sure that you’re telling me anything, I’m gonna have to overrule our last agreement and do things my way.” She started out the door again. And stopped again. “You guys be careful,” she whispered, and finally slipped out the door.


Hours later, and she had covered most of the town, but hadn’t found anything that was out of the ordinary.

It merely seemed like a sleepy little town.

Where no one was dying.

She pulled the Impala along the sidewalk as her mind turned the thought over again. A town where no one was dying.

So why are there so many lights on in the funeral home and several cars parked around it? she thought to herself.

No one stopped her as she eased her way into the funeral home with a sawed-off shotgun tucked against her shoulder. But as she neared the main viewing room, she could see that all the lights were on and hear voices. As she got closer, she thought she could make out Latin.

When she heard something about reaper blood and something opening to Lucifer, she quickened her pace.

Peeking around the corner into the room, she saw Tessa and a man in a suit laid out in the middle of a large spell on the wood floor—a spell obviously trapping the reapers. The tall man speaking Latin was kneeling with the other reaper pulled partly off the floor, a scythe in his hand wrapped around the neck of the reaper.

Before she had time to move closer to take a shot, the demon jerked the scythe through the reaper’s neck, dropping him back to the floor amidst crashes of thunder and lightning.

Tabitha had a moment to think that she’d been right about a scythe killing a reaper, but the thought quickly fled as a demon nearly blindsided her.

Twisting towards it at the last second, she squeezed off a shot of rock salt into its abdomen before another demon stepped in and knocked the shotgun from her hands, punching her in the same spot on her jaw where Alastair had. The blow buckled her knees, allowing the two demons—one at least cursing her in pain from the shotgun blast—to drag her forward to the demon that had been kneeling over the reapers.

“The sister, too. Isn’t tonight just full of wonderful surprises?” the demon asked, his slow tone and speech telling her he was Alastair.

Alistair_in_4.15_Death_Takes_A_Holiday

But then, she registered his words and looked past him, finally seeing her brothers trapped behind an iron chain barrier. For some reason, she was surprised that they looked just like they always did. For some reason she had figured their “ghosts” should look different. At least other than their horrified looks as they stared helplessly at her.

-Death-takes-holiday-promo-photos-supernatural-7368698-1450-963

“It’s nice to see you, too, Alastair. I just couldn’t stay away when you were partying with grim reapers” she replied with a nod towards the reapers on the floor. “Just too tempting to pass up such a wonderful party,” she snidely added.

Alastair stood from the first reaper, stepping closer to her and pausing to run a too gentle finger down her cheek, causing her to grimace and pull away from his touch.

“Not dead or dying. But you can see them. You just get more and more interesting, don’t you? I can’t wait to get better acquainted.”

“You leave her out of this, Alastair,” Dean shouted from where he was trapped. Tabitha glanced back at her brothers. Though they both had the angry spirit look down pat now, she was still amazed they’d managed to manifest themselves as they had in the past few hours.

“Oh, I’ll look forward to playing with her, I assure you, Dean,” Alastair answered, moving back to the reapers and jerking Tessa from the floor up to her knees. She’d been still as death before, but once he grabbed her, her eyes jerked open and she began glancing frantically around the room. He glanced at the demons holding Tabitha and told them, “Hold onto her. I’ll deal with her later.” And then he turned back to Tessa. “But first things first,” Alastair continued.

4x15-Death-Takes-a-Holiday-Promotional-Photos-supernatural-4319856-1450-963

He began reciting in Latin again, and Tabitha frantically tried to think of what she could do. One of the demons who held her also held her shotgun loosely in his other hand, but she couldn’t overpower them both to get at it.

Then, she looked up at her brothers, and saw Sam silently trying to draw Dean’s attention up to the wrought-iron chandelier hanging above Alastair and Tessa. She knew her brothers well enough to read his single glance. Sam and Dean both concentrated on the chandelier, trying to use their ghost state to move it.

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It shook ever so slightly, and Tabitha found herself staring at it along with them, concentrating on it as well and willing it to break from the ceiling and fall.

The hook gave way then, and the chandelier suddenly crashed into the wooden floor, breaking the spell holding Tessa in place before Alastair finished his incantation. And she disappeared from his grip.

Tabitha didn’t hesitate, lunging in the grip of the two surprised demons holding her, and grabbing her shotgun from the stunned grip of one, twisting to fall on her back as she fired her shotgun at him. The other demon came out of his stupor, leaping towards her even as she pumped another shell into the chamber and fired at the second demon, both writhing on the floor in pain from the close blast of rock salt.

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus,” she said as she began to exorcise them, but they smoked out of their meatsuits before she could finish.

Dean and Tessa appeared at her elbow, Dean wildly gesturing back the way she’d come in. “Get the hell out of here,” he told her.

Throwing a glance at Alastair slowly turning towards them, she couldn’t agree more, so she followed the two out of the funeral home and onto the street.

Dean pointed frantically at the Impala. “Get the hell back to the motel and protect Pamela. I think Alastair might have sent demons.”

Tabitha looked around. “Where’s Sam?”

“I’ll find him. Go!”

“What about Alastair?”

He threw his arm towards the Impala again. “Go! He’ll be more likely to come after me than you.”

That hadn’t been what she meant, but his order to protect Pamela had finally sunk in, so she sprinted for the car, throwing it in gear with one last look at her brother as he flashed out of sight.

When Tabitha got back to the motel, she knew there was trouble before she opened the door. Their room was in shambles, and Sam was hovering over a pale and shaking Pamela. But the smell of coppery blood and sulfur had met Tabitha’s nose before she entered the room.

Pamela had been leaning near Dean, whispering something to him. Sam was just helping her into a chair between the beds when Tabitha got further into the room.

“Hey, we just got to talk to Tessa, that’s all—” Sam told the psychic as he held her arm. “Get her to hold off reaping till we get you better.”

Tabitha froze at his words. “What happened?” she asked in a shaky voice as she moved around her younger brother to get a better look.

Pamela moved her hand away from her abdomen, dark red blood immediately spilling over her fingertips. Tabitha had an instantaneous flashback to seeing Bobby bleeding in the same way. And then another image of him telling her in a dream that she would be the death of everyone. She wondered if he was right.

“I’m pretty sure she’s started up again,” Pamela answered in a shaky voice.

Tabitha knelt in front of her friend, pressing her hands against the wound to stem the flow. “I’m so sorry, Pam,” she whispered in a voice the broke. “I’m so goddamned sorry. I should have been here. I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

Dean suddenly gasped from his bed and sat up straight in the air.

“What happened?” he demanded as he turned towards them.

“Dean, where’s Tessa?” Sam asked instead.

“She’s…” he trailed off as he stared at the psychic.

Tabitha jerked unsteadily to her feet, staring at the dark vicious fluid covering her hands. “I’ll go find her,” she managed to choke out. “Get her wait.” She looked frantically around the room, expecting the reaper to be there any second.

“Pamela, I’m so sorry,” Sam regretfully whispered.

“I’ll find Tessa,” Tabitha continued frantically insisting. “It’ll be okay.”

“Stop,” Pamela shakily told them.

But Sam continued mournfully telling her, “You don’t deserve this.”

“Yeah, I don’t,” Pamela agreed with an edge as her breathing became unsteady. “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.”

Tabitha turned away as Pamela began coughing and her breathing became more ragged. She could hear her brothers trying to comfort her friend, but her attention was fixed on the compassionate eyes of the waiting reaper.

“You can’t change what’s happening,” Tessa quietly told her. “It’s time.”

“It’s not fair. It shouldn’t be her time. It’s my fault. I should have been here to protect her. Just…don’t take her. Let her stay,” Tabitha frantically pleaded.

“You know she can’t stay,” Tessa answered. “It’s time.”

“I’m ready,” Pamela coughed unsteadily. And Tabitha turned to face her as she realized Pamela was speaking to her and Tessa.

Pamela had been leaning forward to whisper something to Sam, but fell back as she coughed up blood, staring past Sam’s shoulder at Tabitha as she told her, “If you think you know what you’re doing, you haven’t got a clue what you’re mixing up in. And things are only going to get more dangerous now.” She coughed again, and Tabitha had to strain to hear her last words. “You’ll be death…”

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“Pamela!” Dean shouted when the psychic went still.

Dean turned to Sam. “What did she say to you?” And then he looked over at his sister. “What the hell did she say to both of you? What the hell was she talking about that you’re getting mixed into?”

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But neither Sam nor Tabitha could look up to meet his demands.


A/N: Here’s a loose translation of the Latin Alastair speaks as he’s killing the reaper:

This reaper’s blood, that seal, and respect, that Lucifer is bound to open up again!

Also, anyone know who Tabitha’s alias really is in this chapter? I follow the same pattern with all of her aliases (except a little different with her very first, but I won’t include it in the list) so does anyone know the pattern? Here’s the list of her aliases in this pattern so far:

Chapter 11: Norma Mortenson

Chapter 14: Betty Perske

Chapter 17: Margarita Cansino

Chapter 19: Demetria Gene Guynes

Anyone see the pattern or know who they are? 🙂 10 points apiece if you do!

Also, for an upcoming chapter, I need to include some internet names to use, and rather than just making them up, if anyone wants to volunteer the use of theirs, I’ll try to work in the first couple of volunteers.

And on a totally unrelated note, I have a serious personal grudge against the town of Greybull, Wyoming, so I kinda hate that this episode takes place there. I got my first and only ever speeding ticket in stupid Greybull, because I was coasting into town and didn’t slow down soon enough. And in my defense, I was driving a long leg back from vacation with my family, and talking with everyone behind me—so I know, not paying the best attention—but it was a Sunday frickin’ morning and there was NOBODY around anywhere. (Not that there ever really is in Greybull) And the frickin’ cop was a total b*tch to me! She wouldn’t even give me a warning since I was actually from out of state and wouldn’t know what the speed limits coming into town were—and hadn’t seen the speed limit sign. I was only doing like 40 in a 30, too. That is the only actual speeding ticket I’ve ever had. I’ve had verbal warnings and even some written warnings, but I was so pissed to get my first (and only thus far) speeding ticket. At least tickets aren’t too expensive in Wyoming!

So anyway, rant done. I know it’s not really a good reason, but that’s why I don’t like Greybull anymore. 😉

And be sure to leave me more hits of crack…I mean…more reviews…yeah…that’s what I meant…reviews. 😉

 

Chapter 20: In the End, We’re All Alone

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