Katherine lets out a sigh, massaging her scalp with her fingertips as she stares up at the wall of stuff she printed out earlier in the day. Sam is still passed out on the bed, face-down. She and Dean have changed back into their street clothes. While she's been taping and pacing, Dean has watched from the bed and table...not contributing. 

She rolls up onto the balls of her socked feet and yawns. "Okay," she says, shaking her head. "So demons are nasty sons 'a bitches, ain't no way we can get around that."

"Okay, but is there any evidence they can do stuff like possess people to take down entire airplanes?" Dean asks.

"Of course," she replies with a nod, and crosses over to the table where he is. "In Japanese culture, it is believed that certain demons are behind certain disasters, both natural and man-made." She drapes her jacket over her shoulders, which are practically bare for all of the coverage her cami provides. "One causes earthquakes, another causes disease—"

"And this one causes plane crashes?"

"Demons can do anything and everything, if they had the idea," Katherine says, crossing her arms. "Some of 'em were people, once."

"All right, so what?" Dean asks. "We have a demon that's evolved with the times and figured out a way to ratchet up the body count?"

"I guess." Dean chuckles humorlessly and shakes his head, scratching the back of it. "What?"

"I dunno, Kat...I mean, this isn't our usual gig."

"It is for me," she quietly replies, looking to Sam's computer screen. Dean turns around to gaze at the younger girl. "It's what we do, us Donovans."

"What ever made you all so crazy to pick a bone with demons anyway?" Dean asks.

He always heard stories about Donovans. They're like legends in the hunting community.

Katherine snorts. "We picked the bone," she says with a nod. "1700s, Ireland. Seamus Donovan. He was fifteen years old and his mother was dying...a woman came up to him one day at the village well and asked if he had one wish, what would it be? Of course, he said he wanted to save his mother." Katherine purses her lips. "The woman told him all would be well the moment he returned home—all she needed was a kiss. So he kissed her. Years went by, and true to the woman's word, Seamus' mother was healthier than a horse. He had two sons and a girl before that demon came back and took him. He was tricked. Never said anything about selling his soul or anything."

Dean, needless to say, is skeptical. "How do you know?"

"Seamus kept a journal. I'll show you one day—it's in one of my dad's lockups down south. Anyway, Seamus' eldest son, Brennan, was nine when he died. He describes it in his journal pretty vividly. It's amazing, really."

"So you crazy sons of bitches have been hunting demons for almost three hundred years because of some fifteen year old boy?"

Katherine smiles, but it's a little sad. "Haven't you ever heard Irish grudges are passed on?" She asks. Dean shrugs. "Dean," she sighs. "It's the same reason you all got involved in hunting. Your mom, right? Family? They didn't have much...Seamus just had his mom, his father, his brother and a few sheep." She rubs her hand a little awkwardly. "Look, if you don't wanna do this case, it's fine. I can wrap it up myself. Shouldn't take long."

"No way in hell I'm abandoning you, kid," Dean says. A small smile tugs at the corner of Katherine's mouth. Her phone buzzes on the table and she quickly answers it.

"Hello? Oh, hey, Jerry." After a moment, her eyes flit up to Dean. "Oh, man, I'm sorry. What happened?" A pause. "Where did it happen?" Katherine lets out a heavy sigh. "Yeah. You take care, Jerry. We'll catch up with you soon." She hangs up.

"What was that?"

"Chuck Lambert, Jerry's pilot friend? He died about an hour ago. A twin plane went down in Nazareth. The irony in that is astounding," she scoffs, shoving her arms through the sleeves of her tan utility jacket. They leave Sam in the motel room with a note of their whereabouts and get to the scene quickly—it's still smoking. Luckily, Dean and Katherine still had their badges on them and they were able to get up close and inspect. 

She found sulfur on the handles of the plane controls. 

"All right, so that's two plane crashes involving Chuck," Dean says. "Maybe this's got somethin' to do with him."

"All respect to Chuck, that would be the good news," Katherine mutters.

"What's the bad news?"

"The plane went down exactly forty minutes into flight, and so did 2485, the passenger plane."

"Forty minutes?" Dean asks. "What's that mean?"

"It could be mimicking biblical numerology," she hums. "With Noah's ark, it rained for forty days. That number means death, spiritual rebirth, God and his trials and tests, but with demons...over the past decade, there have been six planes that went down exactly forty minutes into flight."

"Any survivors?"

"Nope. Not until now. That cockpit EVP said 'no survivors,' remember?" Katherine shrugs. "What if it's going after everyone who survived this flight?"

"It's trying to finish the job." Katherine nods. "Let's go check on Sammy, see if we can wrangle his brain into this one."

Sam woke up just as Katherine and Dean arrived back at the motel. He didn't have much time to collect his wits before he saw Katherine and Dean plop down at the table and get to work. From what Sam could piece together, they were posing as surveyors from the airline, calling people from the list of survivors, asking if they planned on flying any time soon. Katherine caught wind that the surviving flight attendant, Amanda Walker, would be departing for a flight within the next few hours. The hunters blew out of the motel room with their bags over their shoulders and sped eastward, towards Indianapolis.

In the car, Sam and Katherine continued ticking names off of the list of survivors, calling and "conducting surveys."

"Could you park any worse?" Katherine asks as she looks down at the Impala's rear over the line of another parking spot.

"Trying to save lives," Dean chirps, already hurrying away from the car.

"Uh...Dean?" Sam asks. He turns around. "We're about to walk into an airport."

Dean shrugs. Katherine raises her eyebrows at him, and after a moment, he nods and moves back for the trunk. Knife, out. .45, out. .22, out. Silver spikes, out.

"And..." The blonde waits.

"No, I think that's it." Dean pats himself over.

"Oh," she chirps. "I'm impressed."

"I feel naked."

The airport is frustratingly packed. It doesn't help Katherine takes speed walking to a whole other level—the boys get shin splints rather easily with her. "They're boarding in thirty minutes," Katherine says, staring up at the flight screen.

"Hang on, hang on," Dean says, holding his hands up, and Katherine turns with an expectant expression. "We still have some cards to play," Dean tells her. "We need to find a phone." He rushes off to the left, and Sam tugs Katherine after him.

"Dean, I've already tried calling her three times already," she calls after him. "Her phone is off or something."

"Well, you haven't called the gate, have you?" He asks. Katherine rolls her eyes, but follows quickly after the Winchesters. Dean picks up the courtesy phone and holds it against his ear. "Hi, Gate 13? I'm trying to contact Amanda Walker. She's a flight attendant on, uh..."

"424," Katherine quietly supplies.

"424," Dean echoes with a nod. "Yeah, thanks." He rocks onto his toes and sighs. "Come on, come—Miss Walker. Hi, this is Doctor James Hetfield from Saint Francis Memorial Hospital." Sam gawks as Dean scrambles to tie up the ends of this lie and Katherine rolls her eyes, shaking her head. Lead singer of Metallica is a bit too conspicuous. "We have a Karen Walker here—nothing serious, just a minor car accident, but she was injured, so—you what?" Dean looks to Sam, a small glimmer of panic twinkling in his eye, and the younger brother raises a brow. "Right, well...there must be some mistake." A few moments of pause. Katherine huffs and stretches up onto her toes, pressing her ear to the other side of the phone. Dean swats at her, and she nudges back.

Is this one of Vince's friends?

"Guilty as charged," Dean chuckles, turning to glower at Katherine. She yanks the phone from his hand and holds it between their ears. Standing up on her toes compensates slightly for the height discrepancy, and she uses Sam's elbow for leverage.

This is unbelievable, Amanda pronounces.

"He's...really...sorry."

"Well, you tell him to mind his own business and stay out of my life, okay?"

"Yes, but," Dean begins, and Katherine gnaws on the inside of her cheek. "He really needs to see you tonight, so..." Dean huffs and hangs the phone up on the cradle.

"Plan C," Katherine says.

"That was Plan C," Dean states, gesturing to the phone.

Katherine shrugs. "Plan D. We're getting on that plane."

Dean gawks. "Now hold on—"

"There are over a hundred people on that plane," Sam says with a nod. "If you guys are right, that plane is gonna crash."

"I know."

"Well I will be getting on the plane," Katherine says, putting her hands on her hips. "I will find the demon and I will exorcise it. Be prepared to pick me up in whatever state I land in."

"Kat," Dean calls as the girl walks away. "Katherine Louise!" He groans and follows after Sam as his younger brother moves after Katherine.

"Sam," Katherine begins, flipping her wallet open. She hands him a few one hundred dollar bills. "Get us some tickets. I'm gonna go grab what we'll need in the trunk. If you get the tickets before I make it back, give mine to Dean and you go on through security—I'll catch up." Sam nods and rushes away.

"Wait, guys!" Dean cries. Sam and Katherine stop. "Seriously? I mean you said it yourself, that plane is going down," he hisses.

"Right," Katherine nods. "So Sam and I are gonna do this with or without you, just pick us up somewhere." She claps him on the arm and turns on her heels again.

"Seriously?!" Katherine ignores him. "Three, Sam!" Dean calls, running after the teenage girl. Katherine smiles a bit.

"That was like pulling teeth," she says to him, glancing to her right as Dean runs up on her.

"Yeah, well, I kind of have an issue with the whole..." He gestures before him.

"Flying?" Katherine supplies.

"I mean, why do you think I drive everywhere?!"

"Because flying is expensive?" Katherine suggests. "I don't fly everywhere." In the trunk of the car, Katherine nabs up her bible jammed into her bag and scoops up a flask of holy water. She dumps a bit of it into one of her unused travel-size containers and rushes back into the airport.

It's a mad dash to get through security, and she and Dean compile what they can into one bin—belts, wallets, eyeglasses, jewelry. Separate bins for shoes.

Sam stole the window seat, so Katherine took the middle. Easier for Dean to make a quick escape to the toilet if need be.

"Just try to relax," Sam says to Dean, leaning across Katherine.

Dean glowers at an innocent magazine. "Just try to shut up," he says through gritted teeth. Katherine smiles, facing forward.

"The best part is taking off," she tells him, leaning over Sam to look out of the window. Dean inhales shakily as the plane tilts upward, lifting off of the ground.

"The best part would be landing," Dean hisses. "Which we probably won't do."

"Have you so little faith in me?" Katherine hums. Dean's eyes practically pop out of their sockets as the wheels nestle into the plane, and the girl lets out a quiet giggle. "Are you humming Metallica?"

"It calms me down."

She smiles and shakes her head, reaching up to squeeze his arm. "You're fine, Dean," she murmurs, her fingers kneading into his bicep. Dean watches her slender digits work into his muscle for a short time and focuses on the sensation of it.

"Hey—what do you say we hit the bathroom?" He asks.

Katherine smirks. "I'd rather not be puked on," she tells him.

"I definitely wouldn't be puking on you."

"Oh, you say that now."

Sam chuckles, shaking his head. Flirting seems to be the go-to between the other two. He idly wonders how much true sentiment is behind Dean's words.

Just before he split for Stanford, Sam remembers coming across a female hunter with his family, and Dean quietly proclaiming to his younger brother that sleeping with another hunter—on the job—would just be a whole lot of mess.

So maybe it's just Dean being Dean.

But sometimes, Sam can't even tell if Katherine is flirting on purpose. 

"I get that you're nervous," she continues, her hand moving down Dean's arm to settle around his wrist. "But we've only got about half an hour to find this thing...whoever it's possessing...and I need the both of you to help me with that. So just...try to calm down, all right?" Dean stiffly nods.

"How exactly do you plan on performing a full-on exorcism on a crowded plane?"

"One step at a time," Katherine hums. She leans away from him, patting his hand, and crosses her legs as she waits for the seatbelt sign to turn off. Dean's long fingers lock around her wrist like an iron vice.

"How do we know who it's possessing?" Sam asks.

"Usually, the person has some sort of weakness," Katherine murmurs. "Emotional distress is usually a pretty bright beacon." She gives Dean the side-eye. "This is Amanda's first flight after the crash, so I'm thinking it could be—"

"Excuse me, are you Amanda?" Dean asks, looking up at a blonde flight attendant. She seems to be around his age.

She smiles and shakes her head. "No, I'm not."

"Oh. My mistake." The woman continues up the aisle and Dean cranes his head around his seat for a moment. "I think Amanda's back there. She's the only other chick attendant on this thing. So...I'll go talk to her and get a read on her mental state."

"What if she's already possessed?" Sam asks.

"I don't think you're in the best position to ask questions," Katherine adds, glancing Dean up and down. "I mean, she'd know your voice from earlier."

Dean ignores Katherine and guns for Sam's question. "Kat brought holy water."

"There are more subtle ways," Katherine says, shaking her head. "If she's possessed, they'll sometimes flinch at the name of God. Sometimes."

"God?"

"Duh," Katherine scoffs. "Or Jesus." She nods. "Or you could just...quietly begin an exorcism and see who freaks." Dean unbuckles his seatbelt and gets up. "It's Christo!" She kisses. Dean waves her off. Katherine sighs, watching after him as he moves to the back. After fifty-three seconds—Katherine counted—Dean plops down beside her once more.

"Well she's got to be the most well-adjusted person on the planet," he spits, pressing his spine back into the seat. "There's no demon in her."

Katherine's knee starts hopping. "So if it's on the plane, it could be anywhere." The plane jolts and Dean's hand grips Katherine's wrist once more. "Ow. Dean, crushing bone," she winces, her body writhing.

"That can't be normal!" He squeaks.

"No, it's perfectly normal," Katherine breathes, slowly prying his fingers from her little wrist. "It's just a little turbulence." Dean's head snaps around to look at her.

"Katherine Louise, this plane is going to crash," he pronounces. "So quit treating me like I'm frikken four."

"Four year olds don't have the grip of The Hulk," she hisses back, holding her wrist up to his face, his hand still attached. Dean releases her arm and she gasps, moving it away from him with a sour expression. "You need to calm down."

"Well I'm sorry, I can't—"

"Yes you can," she insists.

"Stow the touchy-feely, self-help, new-age teenager shit!"

"If you're feeling panicked, you're wide open to demonic possession," she snaps. Sam looks over at the two. She's still holding her right arm to her chest. "Calm yourself down right now or I'm gonna put you down for the night."

Dean dramatically releases a breath through his pursed lips. She relaxes back into her seat, her spine and shoulders losing their rigidity.

"How do you know how to exorcise a demon?" Sam asks. "Do you have it written—"

"I memorized it," she says, shaking her head. "This one is two parts—Act One, expel the demon from the host, Act Two, send the bastard back to Hell for a good few years."

"Few years?" Dean squeaks. "What happened to forever?"

"They're persistent little ants," Katherine tells him with a pensive expression. "You're not calm."

"I'm calm. I'm calm."

"Seriously Dean, Sam and I—"

"I'm calm," he insists, holding a hand up.

"Fine," she murmurs. "You bring your EMF?" He nods. "I need you to walk up the aisle and try to find the thing. Sam can go with you, if you want."

Dean shakes his head and reaches down to dig through the small bag he brought on board. Katherine and Sam watch as he slowly progresses up the aisle from the very back of the plane, his homemade EMF inconspicuously sweeping the seats on his sides. Katherine rolls onto her feet and walks behind him, tapping his shoulder. Dean jumps. "Don't do that!" He hisses.

"Did you find anything?" Katherine shoves her glasses up her nose.

"Nothin'."

She clicks her tongue. "Maybe we missed somebody," she murmurs.

"Maybe the thing's not on the plane," Dean weakly suggests.

Katherine looks dryly at him. "You really believe that?"

Dean shrugs. "I will if you will."

"No. No, it's here. I can feel it." Katherine glances down as Dean's EMF starts to light up. Both of them glance around, but they're at the front, by the restroom.

And the pilot just walked out.

"Christo," Dean weakly murmurs. The pilot turns around, his obsidian glare settling on Katherine and Dean, before he shuts the cockpit door behind him.

"Wonderful. Ain't no way we're getting in there, and ain't no way I'm dying on this plane." She turns on her heel and waves Sam up, stalking to the back of the plane.

"What are you doing?" Dean asks.

"We need to talk to Amanda."

"Wait, what?" Sam asks, ducking into the aisle right after Katherine. "Amanda? What happened?"

"It's in the pilot," Dean hisses.

"And we're going to tell Amanda? " Sam scoffs. "She's not going to believe us."

"Well," the teen chirps, looking at the watch on her left wrist. "We've got twelve minutes to make something happen."

Amanda is a pretty blonde woman with a sweet smile and a pleasant voice. "Oh, hi! Hope the flight's not too bumpy for you." She's obviously talking to Dean. Amanda's eyes sweep over his company, and confusion settles into small spots on her face, changes the shape of her eyes. 

"Actually, that's kind of what we needed to talk to you about," Dean tells her. Sam reaches up and draws the partition curtain tightly. Amanda anxiously shifts on her feet.

"Okay...what can I do for you?"

"This is gonna sound nuts, but we just don't have the time for the whole "the truth is out there" speech right now—"

"We know you were on flight 2485," Katherine interrupts. "We spoke to the other survivors and we know something brought that plane down, and it wasn't mechanical failure." Amanda opens her mouth to speak, looking either appalled or afraid, or both. Katherine keeps talking. "Now we need your help because it's gonna happen again, to this plane, in eleven minutes and forty-two seconds."

Amanda slowly shakes her head. "I'm sorry, I'm—I'm very busy—" she tries to weasel her way between Dean and the curtain, but he carefully drags her back. "I have to get back to—"

"We're not gonna hurt you, okay?" Dean says. "But listen to me. The pilot from 2485 is dead."

"Wait, what? Chuck's dead?"

"He died in a plane crash," Sam tells her. "That's two plane crashes in two months. That doesn't strike you as strange? There was something wrong with 2485, and there's something wrong with this flight, too."

"Amanda, you have to believe us," Katherine says. It's edging towards a plea, but that's the funny thing about her. Her tone never suggested a plea. It's a soft demand, a hard request. She doesn't care if they really believe her, she just needs them to be compliant.

Amanda stares at the three carefully, her expression amongst some of the calmest, less puzzled that the hunters have seen before. Then she rubs her forehead. "On 2485, there was this man...he had these eyes—"

"Yes," Sam says, nodding. "That's exactly what we're talking about."

The stewardess frowns and shakes her head. "Then I don't understand. What are you asking me?"

"The pilot or the copilot, tall dude with kind of a long face and dark hair," Katherine says. "We need you to bring him back here."

"Why? What does he have to do with anything?"

"We don't have time to explain, we just need to talk to him."

Amanda crosses her arms. "Well how am I supposed to go into the cockpit and get the copilot—"

So he's the copilot. It's a bit reassuring. "Do whatever it takes," Katherine says. She nods once. "Whatever it takes."

"Say something's broken," Sam suggests. "Whatever could get him out of that cockpit."

"Do you know that I could lose my job if—"

"Well, you're gonna lose a lot more than that if you don't help us," Dean hisses.

After a moment, Amanda nods. "Okay," she whispers, almost to herself. She smoothes her hands over her skirt and walks out into the main cabin. Katherine peeks through the break in the curtain, a hand over her mouth and fingertips tapping into her skin as she watches. Sam and Dean look above her. Amanda knocks on the cockpit door, and after a few moments, the same man from the lavatory opens the door. The copilot. Amanda gestures to the back and the hunters press themselves to the cabinets.

"You think she's telling him what we told her to, or something else?" Katherine murmurs, fingertips rubbing together. She reaches into her jacket and pulls out the travel bottle of holy water.

"Is that enough?" Dean asks, nodding to it.

"Should be."

"That doesn't exactly instill confidence—"

"Dean, I've performed seventeen exorcisms in the past year," she says. "I know what I'm doing. Now I've got the words right up here—" she taps her temple "—so I'm gonna need you guys to keep him down. Hell, I might even have to help with that, too." She sighs and stares blankly at her meager bottle of water. Then she weakly stamps her foot. Shit. "Sam, would you get me a bottle of water, please? Unscrew the cap for me." She digs into her jacket pocket as Sam hands her an open bottle. The brothers watch as she drops a rosary into the water.

Katherine speaks quickly and quietly, eyes focused on the crucifix floating in the water. She pulls the beads and tucks them back into her jacket, head swiveling in search of something else. Suddenly, her hand darts out and slaps over a pen. She clicks the end and slams the pen into the cap, creating a small hole. She looks up with a victorious smile, but it's short-lived. She remembers the copilot.

She visibly tenses and looks to the curtains. "Dean?" Katherine reaches for a roll of duct tape in the cupboard. He gapes. "Get him on the ground." Dean nods once, looking to the curtain.

"So what seems to be the problem?" The copilot asks, emerging in the back with Amanda. Dean hits him square in the face and pushes him down onto the ground. Katherine swiftly glides into his place, sealing the duct tape over his mouth, and rips it quickly and neatly.

"What the hell?!" Amanda cries. "You said you were just going to talk to him!"

"Quiet," Katherine hisses, flipping open the cap of the holy water—the one she had on her person before. Sam and Dean watch, mystified, as the holy water sizzles on the skin of the pilot, and odorless smoke rises from the body. The copilot is red-faced now, and eyes are pitch black.

"Oh my God, what's happening to him?"

"We need you calm and on the outside of that curtain," Dean says to her. "Don't let anybody in, okay? Can you do that?"

Katherine has already begun her incantation, holding the copilot down by his shoulders as she rests her knees on either side of his body. She hands Sam the bottle of holy water.

The brothers don't know the words she speaks. They hadn't heard much Latin before, but the way Katherine is using it, the way the words roll off of her tongue, it's almost like she was born knowing how to speak it. The copilot grips Katherine's wrists and throws her off of him, knocks the holy water out of Sam's hand.

"I know what happened to your family," the demon says, staring at her with a malicious grin. From the other side of the cupboards, Katherine stares at the demon, a hairline cut on her right side trickling blood. Her jaw tightens and she lunges. The demon grins, looking to Sam. "And your little girlfriend—" Katherine resumes her incantation. Dean grabs the copilot's hands, pinning them to the floor.

"Sam!" Dean nods to the holy water. Katherine continues in her strange tongue, scooping the bottle up herself. She leaps back in surprise as black smoke launches past her and up into the vent.

"Aw, hell." Katherine pushes herself up; the plane rocks and the lights flicker--the passengers are already screaming. The plane nosedives, she can tell by the shift in her balance, and Dean comes crashing into her, pinning her against the cabinets. "Dean!" She cries, pushing at his shoulders. It's too hard to fight his body weight and the speed of the plane. She turns to her side and wrestles her arm between his back and her side so she has room to breathe, and finishes out the exorcism, seemingly shouting over the cries of the passengers and Dean. The plane jolts once more, and then it steadies. Dean's weight isn't the unbearable thing it was before. "Sam?" Katherine asks, peering around Dean's shoulder. He pops his head back into the curtain with a very Sam smile.

"Everything's okay," he says.

Dean groans and drops his head back onto Katherine's. The huntress lets out a deep sigh, closing her eyes. "Told ya," she says to him, patting his side.

"Too close," Dean breathlessly tells her. "Too close."

The pilot turned the plane around, docked up in Indianapolis again, where the FBI was waiting; they held queues of passengers, each one giving nearly the same story.

Katherine stares out into the night, slouched into the corner of the front seat of the Impala. Sam is stretched out in the back, sleeping. Dean insisted on driving. So there she is, gnawing her lower lip raw, arms crossed tightly over her chest. "Hey," Dean murmurs. "You okay?"

She nods after a moment. "Yeah, I guess," she murmurs.

"You guess?"

"I'm worried about Sam," she quietly tells Dean. "When that demon started talking about Jess, he froze up." Katherine rubs her shoulder. "I'm just...worried he's thinking about the accident. Blaming himself, I guess."

"Sam doesn't blame—"

"Yeah he does," Katherine murmurs. "I know he does. Just by the way he looked on the plane, I could tell." She looks to Dean. "Sam and I aren't so different, you know."

"Yeah," Dean sighs, facing forward. "Yeah, I guess I'm beginning to see that."

Day breaks just as the Impala arrives at Leigh Valley Airport; they drive off to the side, to the hangar Jerry's stationed in.

"Your dad's gonna be real proud," Jerry says, smiling as he hugs Katherine. She chuckles and pats his back. "John and Clay, the both of 'em."

"You keep out of trouble, Jerry," Katherine says, leaning away from the man. He smiles and waves at her. "Oh, hey!" He turns around again. "I meant to ask—how did you get my phone number anyhow?"

"Your dad gave it to me," Jerry answers. The Winchesters look to Katherine. Her brow is furrowed, eyes carefully zeroed in on Jerry.

"What?" She asks. "When did you talk to him?"

"Oh, well—I didn't talk to him, I just called his number. His voicemail said to give you a call."

Katherine nods once. "Right," she murmurs. "See you, Jer." He waves and turns on his heel once more. Sam watches as Katherine sits on the hood of the Impala with her phone in her hand.

"Katherine?" Sam asks.

"This doesn't make any sense," she mumbles. "I've called his phone, like, a hundred times," she says, looking up to Dean. "It's been out of service." Sam doesn't know what it is in her expression. Desperation? Pleading? Confusion for one.

She hurriedly places her phone against her ear and rests forward on her knees. She tries his personal first, the one he's had for years that he rarely gives out. Then she tries the burners.

This is Clay Donovan and I'm unavailable. If it's an emergency, call my daughter Katherine—904-954-4954.