Imagine: The List
Fic posted by members of Vo's Imaginings YahooGroup


“Agent Tyler, Agent Perry, meet Frank O'Brien.” The coroner told them.

“He died of a heart attack, right?” Bobby asked just for clarification.

“Three days ago.” The man confirmed.

“But O'Brien was 44 years old and, according to this ¬ a marathon runner.” Dean argued and the coroner shrugged.

“Everybody drops dead sooner or later. It's why I got job security.”

“Yeah, but Frank kicked it here. Now, just yesterday, two perfectly healthy men bit it in Maumee. All heart attacks, you don't think that's strange?” Dean pushed and the man gave him an odd look.

“Sounds like Maumee's problem to me. Why's the FBI give a damn, anyway?”

“We just want to see the results of Frank's autopsy.” Bobby stated, trying to smooth things over.

“What autopsy?”

“The one you're gonna do.” Dean told him. The coroner stared at them before sighing and going to set things up.

“First dead body?” he asked Dean as he began to cut into the corpse.

“Far from it.” Dean told him and the coroner nodded.

“Oh, good. Because these suckers can get pretty ripe. Hey, hand me those
rib cutters, would you?” Dean picked them up and handed them over.

“Is that from a wedding ring? I didn't think Frank was married.” Dean asked, looking at the pale band of skin on one finger.

“Ain't my department.”

“Any idea how he got these?” Bobby asked, picking up one of Frank’s arms to reveal the scratches.

“You know what? When you drop dead, you actually tend to drop. Body probably got scraped up when it hit the ground. Huh!”

“What?” Dean asked.

“I-I can't find any blockages in any of the major arteries.” He broke the heart free and Dean swallowed, trying not to be sick.
“Heart looks pretty damn healthy.” He handed it to Dean.
“Hold that a second, would you?” The coroner asked and Bobby smirked slightly at Dean even as the coroner made another incision, the spray hitting Bobby in the face.
“Oh, sorry. Spleen juice.”

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“No way was that a heart attack.” Dean grumbled as they left the sheriff’s office, already yanking at his tie. Playing Fed with someone other than Sam felt...weird. He was so used to working with Sam that they almost instinctively knew what the other was going to do; it helped them to keep their cover intact.

“Definitely no way. Three victims, all with those same red scratches. All went from jittery to terrified to dead within 48 hours.” Bobby muttered, loosening his own ties as they walked.

“Something scared them to death? All right, so what can do that?” Dean asked.

“What can't? Ghosts, vampires, chupacabra? It could be a hundred things.” Bobby commented and Dean silently groaned.

“Yeah. So, we make a list and start crossing things off. Alright, who's the last person to see Frank O'Brien alive?”

“His neighbour, Mark Hutchins.”

“Hang on, hang on.” Dean frowned, stopping Bobby who looked at him in annoyance.

“What?” he demanded and Dean turned to face him.

“I don't like the looks of those teenagers down there.” Dean answered and Bobby looked around for a while before seeing the teenagers, talking together near the Impala.
“Let's walk this way.” He crossed the street while Bobby just stared at him. Since when was Dean scared of a bunch of kids?

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Dean was sitting in the car, reading, scratching his arm and wishing for Sammy. Bobby opened the passenger door and sat down, shutting it once he was comfortable.

“Any luck at the county clerk's office?”

“I'm not sure I'd call it luck. Frank's wife, Jessie, was a manic-depressive. She went off her meds back in '88 and vanished. They found her two weeks later, three towns over. Strung up in her motel room, suicide.” Dean answered the older hunter.

“Any chance Frank helped her along to the other side?”

“No, Frank was working the swing shift when she disappeared. Airtight alibi.” Dean turned the car on and pulled away from the curb.
“How was Frank's pad?”

“Clean. Searched it top to bottom. No EMF, no hex bags, no sulphur.” Bobby grumbled and Dean rolled his eyes.

“So probably no ghosts, no witches, no demons. 3 down and 97 to go.”

“Yeah.” Bobby commented and then looked at the dash.
“Boy, you're going 20.” He stated and Dean glanced at him, hands tight on the wheel.

“And?”

“That's the speed limit.” Bobby pointed out, not liking where the conversation was going.

“What? Safety's a crime now?” Dean demanded even as they drove through an intersection, past their hotel.

“Dean, where are you going? That was our hotel.”

“Bobby, I'm not gonna make a left-hand turn into oncoming traffic. I'm not suicidal.” Dean said and Bobby just stared at him.

“Did I just say that? That was kind of weird.” Dean commented even as a whining sound filled the car. Bobby dug through his pockets and then pulled out an EMF meter. He pointed it at Dean and then away again. Every time it got near Dean the reading was off the chart.
“Am I haunted? Am I haunted?!” Dean demanded, eyes wide with fright.

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Dean sat at the table with a book in front of him, not that he was really reading. He stared at the wall clock as its ticking became too loud to ignore. He forced himself to go back to reading and then started coughing when he saw what looked like images of hell. When the words started to seem to talk to him he really started to panic and looked back at the clock, at least it wasn’t talking to him. Snarling in rage he got up and smashed the clock before sitting down and curling his hands into fists, trying not to scratch. Sam could make him feel better but Sammy wasn’t there, he was off in heaven or something doing angel things. What did angels do in their free time? Did they get free time? Was Sammy off with Castiel having fun while Dean was sitting in a crummy hotel room waiting to be scared literally to death?

“Everything all right?” Bobby asked when he eventually returned, looking at the remains of the clock and then at Dean who had moved to the couch and was drinking a beer to get his mind off Sam.

“Oh, yeah. Just peachy. Find anything?”

“Yeah, Jessie O'Brien's body was cremated, so I'm pretty sure she is not our ghost. Quit picking at that idjit. How you feeling?” Bobby asked, staring at Dean in concern.

“Awesome. It's nice to have my head on the chopping block again. I almost forgot what that feels like.”

“We'll keep looking.” Bobby assured him even as Dean began to cough.
“You okay? Hey!” Bobby called as Dean began to choke. Dean stumbled up and over to the sink, gagging until he spat out a bloody wood chip.
“We've been completely ignoring the biggest clue we have, you.” He finally said, staring at Dean.

“I don't want to be a clue.” Dean argued fearfully.

“The abrasions, this, the disease, it's trying to tell us something.”

“Tell us what, wood chips?” Dean snorted but Bobby nodded.

“Exactly.”

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Dean sat on his bed, praying that Bobby could stop the ghost but he knew the odds were against them. If he had back up sure Bobby could do it easy. But alone? Dean was gonna die again. And why would Sammy and Castiel drag him out again if he’d failed them already? Hearing a noise at the door he got up and opened it to find the sheriff.

“Sheriff?” He asked and then he saw the gun in the man’s hand.
“What are you doing?”

“Why are you looking into Luther Garland's death?” he demanded and then Dean noticed the blood on his arm.

“Hey, hey, you're -- you're sick. You're sick. You're sick, all right? Just -- just like me, okay? You got to relax.” Dean tried not to panic but it was a little hard in his condition. The sheriff hit him and Dean staggered back.

“Frank O'Brien was my friend. So he made a mistake. So I didn't bust him. So what? And you're gonna bring me down over that?! No, sir.” He pointed the gun at Dean but Dean knocked it away and they started fighting.
“Get away from me!” he screamed in fear and Dean moved away.

“Al, you got to calm down!”

“Step back!” He cried, clutching at his heart even as he fell and then went still. Dean just stared n horror as he watched the sheriff die. Unable to do anything Dean went back to his bed and sat down, scratching at his arms. He froze though as he heard Sam’s voice, like a whisper.

“You're going back. It’s about damn time too. Hahahaha.” Dean forced himself to ignore it. Sam had pulled him from hell; he would never want Dean to go back. Besides Sam was an angel now, they didn’t think stuff like that.....did they? He froze as he heard barking and tried to ignore it, looking at his watch to see how much longer he had. Seeing something on the floor he leant over and picked it up, the Bible, great.

“Hi, Dean.” A bright voice said and he spun around, going pale as he stared at the little girl.

“Huh, no! No!” he denied, scrambling to get away.

“Yes! It's me, Lilith.” She hugged him and Dean practically whimpered in fear, trying to make himself believe she wasn’t real.
“Oh, I missed you so much. It's time to go back now.”

“You – you are not real!” Dean yelled as he backed into the wall.

“What's the matter, Dean? Don't you remember all the fun you had down there? You do remember. 4 months is like 40 years in hell. Like doggy years. And you remember every second.” She taunted and Dean clutched at his chest, feeling the way his heart was pounding.

“You are not real.”

“It doesn't matter. You're still gonna die. You're still gonna burn.”

“Why me? Why'd I get infected?” he demanded and she laughed.

“Silly goose. You know why, Dean. Listen to your heart.”

“Whu...?”

“Baboom, baboom, baboom, baboom.” And then suddenly she was gone and Dean felt like he was being held by warm arms. He sagged and those arms held him up, despite the fact he knew there was no one there.

“You’ll be okay now Dean.” A much loved voice whispered in his ear and Dean sobbed.

“Sammy.” He whispered and then the presence was gone. Dean looked around, had he just imagined Sam was there? Or had Sam known he needed him and helped despite the fact he wasn’t meant to?

`````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````
“That was dangerous.” Castiel stated and Samuel turned to look at him.

“You would prefer Dean die from fear? Bobby would have been too late.” The younger angel said and Castiel nodded.

“I know, that does not make what you did any less risky.”

“But it had to be done; Dean is the only one who can stop this.” Samuel knew he wasn’t telling Castiel anything the older angel didn’t already know but sometimes it helped to hear it again.

“We are needed elsewhere Samuel.” Castiel finally said and Samuel nodded, following him away from where Dean and Bobby were sitting on the hunter’s porch, drinking beer. There would soon be another seal that needed saving that there weren’t enough angel’s to deal with and Dean would be sent, Samuel would see him then.

````````````````````````````````````````````````
Bobby hung up the phone, grimacing at what Dean had told him before heading for his books. Halloween always brought out the crazies but this sounded really bad.

“It is.” A calm voice answered his silent thought and Bobby spun around, searching for a weapon as he stared at the young man leaning against his fireplace.
“Relax Bobby, if I meant you harm you would have died in the barn.” The clue was given and Bobby felt his heart lurch as he stared at the man, no....angel.

“Samuel?” He whispered and the angel nodded solemnly.
“So what brings you here? Thought you guys dealt with Dean.”

“And you are the only hunter left he trusts.” Samuel answered. Bobby swallowed, trying to see anything of the boy he’d known in the cold stranger and failing. Samuel suddenly straightened and motioned for Bobby to follow him. He did, cautiously, relaxing a little when they entered his panic room. He jumped when the door shut and locked itself, blinking when the angel chuckled slightly.
“Jumpy Bobby?” He asked and Bobby closed his eyes at the sudden warmth in the voice. Warm, gentle hands were suddenly bracing him and his eyes snapped open to stare into unfamiliar blue and yet......there was something familiar in them.

“Sam.” Bobby choked and the angel nodded.

“I am sorry I haven’t had the chance to see you Bobby. Things are pretty.....hectic at the moment. And I’m not often left unsupervised being the youngest in my garrison.” Samuel told him and Bobby reached out to clasp his shoulders.

“It really is you.” He breathed and Samuel nodded.

“Why Sam, why’d you do something so stupidly reckless?” Bobby demanded and Sam sighed.

“I’m sorry Bobby; you shouldn’t have had to bury me so soon after..... I never wanted to hurt you like that.” Samuel whispered and then he was yanked into a hug. He awkwardly hugged Bobby back and then moved a little further away.

“I didn’t...I couldn’t believe it when Dean said....but it really is you.”

“Bobby I.” Samuel started but Bobby cut him off.

“I know Sam, you’re an angel now so things are different. I’ve missed you kiddo, no matter how you’ve changed. Understand?” He demanded and was awarded with a small but honest smile.

“Yes.”

“Good. Now tell an old hunter what he can do to help.”

```````````````````````````````````````
Dean struggled against Samhain but it was no use. Ruby’s knife was clear across the crypt and Dean could feel darkness creeping in. He was going to die again but this time he’d be alone. He was choking, trying to breathe and then suddenly he could. He gasped for air as he lay on his side, head resting on the cold stone even as he forced himself to look at what was happening. Sam had one arm around the demons neck and in his other hand was Ruby’s knife, buried to the hilt between the demon’s ribs. Samhain struggled briefly before crumpling. Sam released the dead demon and moved to Dean’s side. Dean lay, gasping for air as Sam gently turned him so he was lying on his back.

“Can you hear me?” Sam asked and Dean managed to nod. He struggled to move and then he was holding onto Sam’s hand, silently begging for Sam not to leave him, not yet. He’d been upset when Sam hadn’t been with Castiel, instead he’d gotten to meet a new angel, Uriel, and wasn’t he a jerk. Dean didn’t know where Sam had been and at that moment he didn’t care. All that mattered was Sam had been there in time to save him.
“Don’t try to move.” Sam told him and then placed one hand on Dean’s neck. Dean sighed in relief as it suddenly became easy and painless to breath.
“You’ll be okay now.” Sam whispered and Dean knew it was tenderness he was seeing in those blue eyes. He didn’t believe Sam could just stop loving him, change of species or not, and that sight gave him more hope than the feeling of Sam holding him when he’d had ghost sickness had. He still wasn’t sure if that had actually happened after all.
“It did.” Sam whispered softly and Dean stared up at him in surprise.
“Bobby would not have been in time to save you.” Sam admitted, gently helping Dean to sit up.

“I thought....” Dean trailed off and Sam looked down.

“I couldn’t let you die when I could save you. I have been reprimanded for my actions.” Sam said and Dean’s eyes widened in fear. He reached out to grab Sam’s arm.

“What do you mean?” He demanded and Sam looked up at him, distant angelic mask in place again and Dean felt cold at the sight of it.

“The seal broke but you saved the town. Congratulations.” With that Sam was gone but Dean didn’t move. He just sat and stared at where Sam had been for several minutes before slowly getting up and leaving. For a few precious minutes it had been like things were normal but they weren’t. He staggered out of the cemetery, paying no attention to the sunrise as he slowly walked through the town, looking at the people who didn’t realise how close they’d all come to dying during the night. He finally sat down at a table in a park, watching as the first children slowly appeared to play. He didn’t even flinch as Castiel appeared on the seat next to him.

“Let me guess you’re here for the, I told you so.” Dean finally stated but Castiel shook his head.

“No.”

“Well, good cause I’m really not that interested.” Dean murmured and Castiel turned slightly to look at him.

“I am not here to judge you Dean.”

“Then why are you here?” Why Castiel and not Sam?

“Our orders-“ Castiel started but Dean cut him off. He was tired, even though whatever Sam had done seemed to have taken care of his injuries, and not in the mood to listen to whatever reasoning the angel would give him.

“Yeah, you know, I’ve had about enough of these orders of yours-“ he snapped only for Castiel to cut him off.

“Our orders were not to stop the summoning of Samhain; they were to do whatever you told us to do.” Castile explained and Dean stared at him in shock.

“Your orders were to follow my orders?” he asked for clarification and Castiel nodded.
“So why bring in the new guy? Where’d your usual partner go?” Dean asked, wondering what Castiel would say.

“It was a test, to see how you would perform under, battlefield conditions, you might say. As for Uriel, as I told you he is a specialist. Samuel is still very young, the youngest angel in heaven actually, to place him such a situation was not deemed necessary.” The angel told him, not mentioning the fact that Sam had told him what Dean would do. After all they could not share that knowledge with the rest of the garrison. As for his explanation for Samuel’s absence, it was true, he was just leaving out the fact that Sam had gone to Robert Singer or had spent some time confined to the garrison for his actions when Dean had been dying.

“It was a witch, not the Tet Offensive.” Dean muttered.
“So I uh- failed your test huh? I get it. But you know what? If you would have waved that magic time travelling wand of yours and we had to do it all over again, I’d make the same call. Cause see, I don’t know what’s gonna happen when these seals are broken, hell I don’t even know what’s gonna happen tomorrow. But what I do know is, that this, here? These kids, the swings, the trees, all of it is still here because of me.” Dean told him and Castiel felt a brief flash of pride in the young mortal at his side.

“You misunderstand me Dean, I’m not like you think, I was praying that you would choose to save the town.” Castiel admitted softly. He knew Dean saw him as almost the enemy and he wanted Dean to know he was on the mortal’s side.

“You were?”

“These people, they’re all my father’s creations. They’re works of art, and yet, even though you stopped Samhain, the seal was broken and we are one step closer to hell on earth, for all creation. Now that’s not an expression Dean, it’s literal. You of all people should appreciate what that means.” Castiel said and Dean’s expression became pained and even sad.
“Can I tell you something if you promise not to tell another soul?”

“Okay.” Dean whispered.

“I’m not a…hammer as you say, I have questions, I have doubts. I don’t know what is right and what is wrong anymore, whether you passed or failed here. But in the coming months you will have more decisions to make, I don’t envy the weight that’s on your shoulders Dean. I truly don’t.” Castiel whispered sharing a look with Dean. When Dean glanced away at the children he vanished, leaving Dean to think over what he’d said alone.

TBC...
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