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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄

𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘰𝘶𝘵

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"Agent Tyler, Agent Perry, Agent Smith," the coroner said, pulling back the zipper on the body bag to reveal the body of a man with black hair and a bit of hair on his chest. "Meet Frank O'Brien. Died of a heart attack three days ago."

Delaney opened up Frank's file from her spot between Sam and Dean on the other side of the medical table. "Frank was forty-four years old and, according to this, a marathon runner."

The coroner merely shrugged, clearly not having much he can really tell them about Frank. "Everyone has to drop sooner or later. It's why I got job security."

"Yeah, but Frank kicked it here. Now, just yesterday, two perfectly healthy men bit in Maumee. All heart attacks. You don't think that's strange?" Dean argued.

"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," Sam chimed in, flashing the jerk off coroner a fake smile. "You know, the one you're gonna do right now."

After the coroner grabbed his supplies and handed the Winchesters each medical suits to keep themselves clean, he grabbed the scalpel and began to cut from Frank's chest to his belly button. "Is this your first dead body?"

Delaney scoffed softly and crossed her arms, her nose crinkling slightly at the smell of Frank's body. She was used to the dead bodies, but never the smell. Something Delaney definitely would never get used to because it was so pungent. "Nope, far from it."

"Oh, good. These suckers can get pretty ripe," the coroner said, peeling apart Frank's middle so he'd be able to get inside. "Hey, hand me those rib cutters, would you?"

Dean handed the coroner the rib cutters and the sound of organs squishing and bones breaking could be heard. It was definitely a sound that sent shivers down Delaney's spine and she fought the urge to cringe at the sight of it. Dean noticed multiple cuts and bruises on Frank's hand and ran a finger over the light patch of skin where a wedding band clearly used to sit. "Did that used to be a wedding band? I didn't think Frank was married."

"Ain't my department."

Delaney tilted her head and inspected the bruises and cuts that Dean had noticed on Frank. She even noticed long scratch marks on Frank's forearm that made it look like Frank had been scratching at his arms vigorously. If he had a heart attack, how would have Frank even gotten those bruises? Unless he got into a serious fist fight with a wall. "How did Frank get these?"

The coroner glanced up from where he was nearly elbow deep into Frank's stomach. "Well, when you drop dead, you kind of actually drop. Body probably got scraped up when it hit the ground." There was silence for a moment while the coroner froze in his inspection of Frank's body. "Huh, I can't find any blockages in any of the major arteries."

Dean turned away when the coroner ripped out Frank's heart and announced the heart looked healthy. He was then handed the heart to hold for a moment and his face had gone a bit green once the organ hit his hands. A glare was shot towards Delaney and Sam who snickered quietly to themselves at Dean's grossed out expression.

Another squish sound was heard before a shot of blood squirted out of Frank's body and hit Sam and Delaney in the face. Delaney socked Dean in the arm when he smirked at the two as if seeing the blood as a source of payback for his younger siblings.

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After leaving the coroner's office, the three siblings made their way over to the sheriff's station to talk to the sheriff about what he knew of Frank and the other two victims down in Maumee. Delaney and Sam had thankfully gotten the blood wiped from their faces back at the coroner's office when he offered them a wipe. Delaney would definitely be taking a shower at the motel room later when they go back. She had never been more grossed out in her life and she's seen a lot of stuff since she had joined Dean and Sam on the road.

The deputy at the front desk had Delaney and the boys sit down in the three waiting chairs across from his desk to wait for the sheriff. The sheriff was busy in his office and the deputy said he had to wait to inform him that the trio were there. An awkward silence had filled the small space as the deputy continued to do his paperwork and the three siblings sat twiddling their thumbs.

"Hell's bells, Linus, have you seen my - " the sheriff paused in his doorway when he noticed the three sitting awkwardly in front of Linus' desk. "Who are they?"

"Federal agents, I, uh - "

"And you kept them waiting?" the sheriff snapped at Linus, who seemed to grow nervous at the sight of the now annoyed sheriff.

"You - you said not to disturb."

The sheriff waved off Linus with a roll of his eyes and motioned for Delaney, Dean and Sam to follow him back into his office. Though, he had the siblings take off their shoes at the door which Delaney didn't necessarily complain about because her heels were beginning to bother her anyway. 

"Al Britton," Al greeted, shaking each of the Winchester's hands. "Good to meet you."

"You too. Thank you for seeing us," Sam politely stated, allowing Delaney to take the seat next to Dean in front of Al's desk while he stood behind her chair.

Al squirted an obscene amount of hand sanitizer into his hand and rubbed them together, some of it dripping down onto his desk in globs. He took a seat in his chair once he was satisfied and leant back. "So... how can I help Uncle Sam?"

"Well, we're looking into the death of Frank O'Brien. We understand that some of your men found his body," Delaney informed.

"They did," Al confirmed and a forlorn look took over his face. "Me and Frank - we were friends. Hell, we were Gamecocks." He flashed Dean a look when he chuckled at the term cocks. Child. "That's our softball team's name. They're majestic animals. I knew Frank since high school. To be honest, I just this morning got up the strength to go see him. Frank was... he was a good man."

"Yeah," Dean whispered. "Big heart."

Sam subtly whacked Dean upside the head for his comment and flashed Al an innocent smile. "Did you notice Frank acting strange? Maybe scared of something?"

Al sat up in his chair, folding his hands together on his desk. "Oh, hell yeah. Real jumpy. No idea what made him so scared. Wouldn't answer his phone. Finally, I sent some of my boys over to check on him, and, well, you know the rest." He went into a small coughing fit and rubbed more hand sanitizer into his hands, as if his hand wasn't already glazed in it. "Why the feds give a crap? You don't really think there's a case here?"

Dean eyed Al suspiciously, brain visibly trying to figure out what the hell was going on. "No, no. It's probably nothing. Just a heart attack."

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"No way that was a heart attack."

"Definitely no way," Delaney agreed with Sam, following after Dean and Sam down the block back towards the Impala. "Three victims, all with those same red scratches, all went from jittery to terrified to dead within forty-eight hours."

"Something scared them to death?" Dean asked.

Sam sighed and scratched the back of his neck, trying to fit the pieces together in his head. "Alright, so, what can do that?"

"What can't?" Dean countered with a scoff. "Ghosts, vampires, chupacabra? It could be a hundred things."

"Guess we have to make a list and start crossing things off," Delaney suggested, already dreading the extra work they would have to do. "His neighbor, Mark Hutchins, was the last person to see Frank alive. We can start there."

Dean held out a hand to stop both Delaney and Sam from continuing down the street. "Wait, I don't like the looks of those teenagers down there."

Delaney rose an eyebrow and followed Dean's line of sight to see four teenage boys up ahead. Two boys were on their bikes while the other two stood in front of them, bumping fists with the two bike boys they had just met up with. Nothing screamed danger about any of them. If anything, they just seemed like normal teenage boys meeting up to hang out in the park or something to enjoy the nice day out. 

Sam furrowed his eyebrows as Dean walked off in the other direction away from the boys. It was something you never heard out of Dean's mouth or even saw him do. They faced demons and ghosts on a daily basis yet Dean was nervous around teenagers. "Dean... scared of teenagers."

"Yep, this case definitely just hit weird."

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The three siblings sat in Mark's living room that had multiple reptile cages in it. They were all fairly harmless reptiles that wouldn't even hurt a fly and yet, Dean still sat on the couch with a nervous expression. He shifted uncomfortably next to Delaney who continued to give him an odd look at the twitchy and nervous nature Dean had. This was so unlike him that it was beginning to freak her out.

"Tyler, Perry and Smith," Mark noted, petting the snake that sat around his neck. "Just like Aerosmith."

"Yeah, small world," Sam joked, leaning his elbows on his knees. "So when was the last time you saw Frank O'Brien?"

"Monday. He was watching me from my window. I waved to him, but he just closed the curtains."

Delaney hummed and chewed on her thumbnail in deep thought. "Did you speak to him recently? Did he seem different? Maybe like something was scaring him?"

"Oh, totally. He was freaking out," Mark responded, shifting his hands when the snake around his neck slithered along it.

Dean jumped slightly when one of the reptiles jumped into the water of their tanks, shifting his eyes back over to Mark. "Do you know, uh - do you know what scared him?"

"Well, yeah, witches."

"Witches?" Sam repeated, the thought of this thing being all black magic and hex bags popping into both his and Delaney's heads. "Like...?"

"Well, Wizard of Oz was on TV the other night, right? He said that green bitch was totally out to get him."

"Anything else scare him?" Delaney prodded.

"Everything else scared him - Al-Qaeda, ferrets, artificial sweetener, those Pez dispensers with their dead little eyes - lots of stuff."

"What was Frank like when he was alive?"

Mark grew quiet for a moment, visibly uncomfortable with the question. "I mean, he's dead, you know? I - I don't want to hammer him, but he got better. In high school, he was - he was a dick, like a bully. I mean, he probably taped half the town's butt cheeks together, mine included."

Dean chuckled at the thought, but quickly cleared his throat when Delaney and Sam sent him a scolding look. "Uh, so he pissed a lot of people off. You think anyone would want revenge on him?"

"Well, I don't... Frank had a heart attack, right?"

"Just answer the question, sir," Delaney pleaded.

"No... I don't think so. He got better like I said. After what happened to his wife."

"His wife? So he was married."

Mark nodded with a solemn look on his face. "Died about twenty years ago. Frank was really broken up about it." He stopped when he noticed Dean grow more visibly nervous about the snake around Mark's shoulders. "Don't be scared of Donny. He's a sweetheart. It's Marie you gotta look out for. She smells fear."

Delaney jumped slightly when the large yellow and white snake slithered across her chest, but relaxed and pet the snake gently. Snakes had never been a huge paranoia of Delaney's, especially the ones that you had as pets since they weren't harmful. She also remembered learning that snakes were typically more scared of you than you were of them so as long as you stayed calm they wouldn't hurt you. 

Dean, however, tensed up when the snake slithered along the leg that was pressed up against Delaney's side until Marie reached the floor. Definitely weird.

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Later that night, Delaney and Sam had split up from Dean to scope out Frank's house while Dean went to the county clerk's office to get information on Frank's wife. Dean had met back up with the two after an hour with an article on Jessie. She had been a manic depressive who had gone off her meds and was found dead two weeks later three towns over. She had hung herself in her motel room and Frank was cut as the suspect because he had been working the night she died, even had an airtight alibi on the whole thing.

"So, how was Frank's pad?" Dean asked, driving through the middle of town to get the three of them back to the motel.

"Clean. Delly and I searched it top to bottom. No EMF, no hex bags, no silver," Sam informed.

"So probably no ghosts, no witches, no demons. Three down and ninety-seven to go."

Delaney puffed out her cheeks in annoyance. She hated that they had no clear direction to go in with this case. Not even John's journal helped them at the moment because none of the siblings knew exactly which supernatural being to tackle. Delaney had even tried to sneak a call to Randy, but even he was stunned over what it was. The two had kept their distance from each other, especially with the boys back, and it was definitely weird since Delaney had been with Randy for every day almost the whole four months Dean had been in Hell. 

"Dude, you're going twenty," Sam noted, snapping Delaney out of her daze.

"And?"

Delaney furrowed her eyebrows and poked her head into the front seat to see that Sam was right. The speedometer balanced between Dean going nineteen and twenty miles per hour. The slowest Delaney had ever seen Dean go in her life. "That's the speed limit. You never go the speed limit."

"What, Della, safety's a crime now?" Dean huffed, passing right by their motel.

"Dean, you just passed the motel," Sam pointed out, motioning to blue neon sign that was now behind them.

"Sam, I'm not gonna make a left-hand turn into oncoming traffic. I'm not suicidal."

Delaney blinked at her brother in surprise at his response. He even seemed shocked by the response because he froze for a moment after his words processed in his head. A whirring sound came from Delaney's pocket and she slowly took it out to see her EMF reader going haywire. She pointed it at Dean and the lights on top flared red and when she moved it away from Dean the EMF shut off. "Dee..."

"Am I haunted?!"

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The next morning, Delaney and Sam walked off to get the three some donuts for breakfast while Sam dialed Bobby for help. He usually knew what was up and typically was able to help, but this time he was just as stunned as the three. He had mentioned something about a sickness but didn't know much more than that. Bobby promised to call them back if he had found anything else on the sickness.

Sam and Delaney were about to enter the motel to head up to their room, but froze when they heard Eye of the Tiger blasting from the speakers of the Impala across from them in the small motel parking lot. They both eyed the car oddly since they had originally left Dean in the motel room and crossed the way over to the Impala to see Dean laid across the front seat, air drumming to the song.

Delaney slammed her hand on top of the roof which startled Dean who switched off the stereo and stepped out of the car. He stepped out of the car and showed Sam and Delaney the three scratch marks on his arm. The sight only sent a wave of anxiety through Delaney, something that she hadn't felt in a while. She forgot how much it sucked. "Dee..."

Sam handed Dean the box of donuts who sniffed it and tossed it into the back seat of the Impala. "We just called Bobby. You're not gonna like it because, uh, it's... ghost sickness."

"Ghost sickness? God, no," Dean sighed and leant back against the driver's door, rubbing his hands over his face. He dropped his hands to his sides and shook his head. "I don't even know what that is."

"Some cultures believe that certain spirits can infect the living with a disease, which is why they stopped displaying bodies in houses and started taking them off to funeral homes," Delaney explained.

"Get to the good stuff, Della, please."

"Uh, okay. Symptoms are you get anxious... and scared, then really scared, then your heart gives out. Sound familiar?"

"Yeah, but we haven't seen a ghost in weeks," Dean said.

Sam shrugged and stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets. "Its doubtful you got it from a ghost. Look, once a spirit infects the first person, ghost sickness can spread like any sickness. Through a cough, a handshake, whatever. It's like the flu. Now, Frank O'Brien was the first to die, which means he was probably the first infected. Patient Zero."

"Our very own outbreak monkey."

"Right," Delaney replied and crossed her arms. "Frank O'Brien was in Maumee over the weekend. Softball tournament... which is where he must have infected the other two victims."

"Were they Gamecocks?" Dean asked.

"Coinjerkers," Sam corrected.

"So, ghosts infected Frank, he passed it on to the other guys, and I got it from his corpse?"

"Pretty much," Delaney nodded.

Dean scoffed and ran a hand over his hair in anxiousness. "So now I have forty-eight hours before I go insane and my heart stops?"

Delaney rolled her lips into her mouth with a nervous smile. "Twenty-four."

"Well, why me? Why not you two? I mean, you two got hit in the face with his spleen juice."

"Delaney didn't get a demon sickness and you're really gonna question her immunity to a ghost one?" Sam snorted and his face fell at Dean's glare. "Okay, okay. Besides Delaney's immunity because of her demon ... whatever... Bobby and I have another theory about that. Turns out all three victims shared a certain, uh, personality type. Frank was a bully. The other two victims - one was a vice principal and the other was a bouncer. Basically, they were all dicks."

Dean balked at the theory and he clearly was not happy he was grouped in the "dick" category. "So I'm a dick?"

"No, no, no. It's not just that, Dee," Delaney cut in before Dean could go at Sam for insulting him. "All three victims used fear as a weapon and now this disease is just returning the favor."

"I don't scare people!"

"Dean, all we do is scare people," Sam reminded Dean.

"Okay, well, smartass. Then you're a dick, too."

Sam smirked at Dean and shrugged his shoulders. "Guess I'm not."

"Whatever. How do we stop it?"

"We gank the ghost that started all this. We do that and the disease should clear up."

"You thinking Frank's wife?"

"Who knows why she killed herself?" Delaney replied and narrowed her eyes at Dean who exhaled sharply. "What are you doing out here, anyway?"

Dean shifted nervously as he glanced up at the fourth floor window where their room was. "Our room's on the fourth floor. It's... high."

Delaney breathed out a laugh and pat her brother on the shoulder. "I'll go see if we can move our room down to the first floor, Dean."

"I love you, Della!" Dean called after her as she made her way towards the motel's front office.

Delaney waved her hand to acknowledge him as she tried to keep herself calm. She just hoped they could save Dean before he died... again.

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While Dean stayed at the motel to do more research on ghost sickness, Delaney and Sam had gone out to find where Jessie had been buried and also get lunch for the trio since Dean had refused to have any of the donuts. As the Winchester luck would have it, Jessie wasn't their ghost since she had been cremated after her death and they had even more work to do on trying to figure out who the ghost was.

Sam and Delaney returned to the motel room with two bags of take out in their hands to see the broken motel room clock at their feet and Dean who sat on the couch with a beer in his hand and his feet propped up on the coffee table. 

"You okay, Dee?" Delaney asked, placing her bag of take out down on the motel room table and approaching the couch he sat on.

"Just peachy," Dean rasped, sending Delaney a fake smile. "Find anything?"

"Yeah, Jessie O'Brien's body was cremated, so I'm pretty sure she is not our ghost," Sam replied, taking a seat in the chair across from the couch Dean and Delaney were on. He put his feet up on the table next to Dean's, kicking Dean's foot when he went to scratch and pick at the scratches on his forearm that were now longer and redder thanks to his constant scratching. "Quit picking at that."

Delaney frowned and took Dean's hand into hers and squeezed it comfortingly. "You feeling okay?"

"Awesome, Della. It's real nice having my head on the chopping block again. Almost forgot what that felt like." Dean coughed weakly and took a sip of his beer. "Freaking delightful."

"We'll keep looking," Sam assured Dean.

Dean suddenly sat up on the couch as another choking fit took over his body and rushed over to the sink. He gasped and choked above the sink as Delaney and Sam rushed over to the side of the small bathroom sink to see a wood chip fly out of Dean's mouth and hit the sink with a small ping.

Delaney stared wide eyed as Dean cleaned off the wood chip that had bits of blood on it from when it came up Dean's throat. She slowly took the chip from Dean's hand and laughed softly. "Wow. We have been completely ignoring the biggest clue we have - you."

Dean whined and stomped his foot like a four year old. "I don't wanna be a clue."

"The abrasions, the disease - it's trying to tell us something," Sam said, taking the wood chip from Delaney and inspecting it.

"Tell us what - wood chips?" Dean quipped.

"Exactly."

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Half an hour later, the siblings pulled up in front of the lumber mill and stepped out of the car. Dean stared up at the mill apprehensively and Delaney noticed a couple of beads of sweat appear on his hairline as his nerves only spiked higher. "I'm not going in there."

"Dean, we need back up and you're all we got," Sam said and rounded the Impala to open the trunk so he could take out the weapons they would need. "You're going in, Dean!"

Dean whined and took the small bottle of whiskey from his inner jacket pocket, taking a long sip of it to calm his nerves. He coughed faintly as it burned his throat and he tossed it through the open window of the Impala. "Let's do this. It's a little spooky, isn't it?"

Sam held out the handgun for Dean to take who just stared at it with a terrified look. "What?"

"I ain't carrying that. It could go off," Dean said and quickly grabbed the flashlight from the trunk, gripping it to his chest. "I'll man the flashlight."

"You can do that, Dee," Delaney smiled at Dean, patting him on the back. She turned to Sam with a stern look when she noticed the bitch look on his face at Dean not holding a weapon. "You leave him alone. He's freaked out."

"Wha - "

"Can we just get this over with please?" Dean begged before Sam could offer a retort to Delaney, clearly upset Delaney had sided with him as usual. "I'd rather not deal."

Delaney shut the trunk after grabbing her own gun and made her way into the mill with the boys following behind her. Their EMF meters were useless with Dean around so Delaney and Sam had to switch them off once inside since they both kept whirring in their pockets. Frank's wedding band had been found just outside a room full of lockers that had been a gift from Jessie. The floors of the room were mostly just dirt and had a few rows of rusted gray lockers.

Rustling inside the locker next to the wall alerted the trio and Delaney quietly crept over to the locker while Sam stood behind her with his gun ready and Dean held the flashlight up to it so they could see what was inside. She turned to the boys and mouthed down from three before she jerked the door open to see a cat on the top shelf of the locker. As it leapt from the shelf, Dean jumped back with a dramatic scream before placing his hands on his knees to catch his breath.

"That was scary," Dean laughed nervously, placing his hands on his hips.

Sam merely rolled his eyes and kept on moving deeper into the mill. Delaney glared daggers into Sam's back at his reaction and pat Dean comfortingly on the back, assuring him that the cat wasn't going to hurt him. Dean had kept close to his sister the rest of the walk through the mill until they reached a room with a large machine inside and a metal desk at one of end of the room by the chain that would start up the machine.

"Luther Garland," Sam mumbled, picking up the ID card that sat on the side desk next to the large machine.

Dean stood next to the metal desk, moving around the mess of paper work to reveal a large sketch of a woman. He pulled out the article on Jessie and compared the two photos to each other. "Hey, this is Frank's wife."

Delaney peered over Dean's shoulders and her eyes bounced between the two photos with raised eyebrows. "And the plot thickens."

"Yeah, but into what?" Dean thought aloud and lifted the sketch which pulled on the chain to the machine. 

The massive machine behind the siblings kicked on. Dean ran his flashlight around the room to see what the machine was doing when he suddenly froze, his eyes widening in fright. Delaney and Sam noticed his reaction and slowly turned, but only expecting to see another cat or shadow on the wall. However, when they turned around, Sam and Delaney saw a man dressed in dusty blue overalls that mechanics or janitors typically wore. 

Sam held up his shot gun and pushed Delaney behind him as he slowly approached the bald headed man. He slowly crept over to the male and shouted for him to turn around. When the male didn't even flinch at Sam's shout, he turned around again and sighed when he noticed Dean had bolted out of the room, checking over his shoulder every few seconds until he was out of the mill.

The male had suddenly turned to show scratches along his faces and all he did was take one step forward before Sam shot at him and sent him into smoke. 

"Well, guess we found our ghost, Sammy."

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Dean, who had drank basically three quarters of the whiskey bottle, sat in the passenger seat while Dean took over the wheel. Sam sat in the back and dialed the sheriff's department to see if they would be able to go in and get a file on Luther Garland. Thankfully, the deputy said he would look for it for them and have it ready for when they came in. Delaney and the boys had ran to the motel room to change into their FBI suits quickly and made their way over to the sheriff's station.

"This is the Garland file," Linus said, handing over the file to Sam who thanked him politely. His drifted over to Dean who stood next to Delaney, swaying on his feet as all the whiskey he drank had finally settled in. He sent Sam a wink and thumbs up while Delaney tried to keep Dean standing on his feet with an innocent smile. "Is he... drunk?"

"Nope," Sam quickly said before Dean could even think about opening his mouth, leafing through Garland's file. "Deputy, according to this, Luther Garland's death was caused by physical trauma. What does that mean?"

"They guy died twenty years ago - before my time. Sorry," Linus replied.

Delaney grunted when Dean leant his arm on her shoulder and practically put all his weight into it. He was a full foot taller than her and had a good fifty pounds on her and didn't help that she was in freaking heels again. However, Delaney didn't complain because she knew Dean was currently freaking out and was just drunk, which would go away in a few hours. "Would we be able to see the sheriff then? Maybe he'll know some of the information."

Linus glanced behind him to the sheriff's office that was closed with the blinds pulled over his door and windows that looked into the office. "Sheriff's out sick today."

"Would you mind having him call us if you see him then? We're staying at the Bluebird," Sam informed and held up the file to let Linus know he was going to borrow it for the time being.

Dean swayed a little more on his feet, but righted himself and pointed at Linus with a grin. "Know what? You're awesome."

Linus chuckled awkwardly and nodded at Dean. "Uh... thanks. Y-you, too.. I guess."

Delaney flashed Linus an innocent smile and dragged Dean out by the wrist before he could dig himself an even bigger grave.

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Sam had found out in Luther's file that he had a brother who lived in assisted home place not too far from the motel. He suggested they should go and ask Luther's brother about how Luther had died so they could have a better understanding on why he would be so angry. Judging by the scratches that were on Luther's face, it wasn't necessarily a normal death.

"Come on. This isn't gonna work," Dean whined, fiddling with his badge in his hands. "These badges are fake. What if we get busted? We could go to jail."

Sam huffed and tugged Dean to the side of the hallway so they could talk privately. "Dean, shut up. Calm down."

Delaney punched Sam in the arm and glared at him while he glared back at her for hurting him. "Samuel Winchester, he's sick. He can't help it, okay?" She turned to Dean and placed his hand over her heart. "Dee, just match my heart beat." When she felt Dean relax underneath her hand, Delaney smiled softly at him. "Good. Now we're going to go in there and see what Luther's brother knows and then we can save you, yeah?"

Dean slowly nodded in response and let Delaney tug him towards the end of the hall where the cafeteria was. All of the tables in the spacious were vacant aside from the one next to the window where Luther's brother sat alone.

Delaney rounded the table to stand in front of Luther's brother and smiled politely at him. "Hi, Mr. Garland. I'm Agent Smith and these are Agents Tyler and Perry - FBI. We'd like to ask you a few questions about your brother Luther if you don't mind."

Mr. Garland eyed the trio and clasped his hands on his stomach. "Let me see some ID."

"Of course," Sam replied and handed his ID over to Mr. Garland along with Delaney and Dean. The latter shifting nervously while Mr. Garland inspected the IDs closely.

"Those are real. Obviously," Dean cleared his throat awkwardly. "I mean, who would pretend to be an FBI agent, huh? That's just nutty."

Sam stepped on Dean's foot to shut him up and flashed Mr. Garland a tight lipped smile as he handed them back their IDs. 

"What would you like to know?"

"Uh, well..." Sam held up Luther's file that he had brought in with them, Luther's ID paper clipped to it. "According to this, your brother Luther died of physical trauma."

Mr. Garland scoffed at the statement, clearly not liking it. "I don't agree with that. Don't matter what an old man thinks, though."

Delaney took a seat next to Sam while Dean pulled over the chair from the next table over and sat on Delaney's other side. "Mr. Garland... we are just trying to get the truth on Luther. Please."

Mr. Garland took the ID from the file and stared down at it with a distant look on his face. "Everyone was scared of Luther. They called him a monster. He was too big, too mean looking. Just too.... different. Didn't matter that he was the kindest man I ever knew. Didn't matter he would never hurt no one. A lot of people failed Luther. I was one of them. I was a widower with three young'uns, and I told myself there was nothing I could do."

"Mr. Garland, uh... " Sam pulled out the sketch of Jessie that Dean had found at the mill and turned it around for Mr. Garland to see. "Do you recognize this woman?"

"It's Jessie O'Brien. Her man, Frank, killed Luther."

Delaney was taken aback at how sure Mr. Garland had sounded about Frank killing Luther. If this man was so positive that Frank was behind the murder, then why hadn't they apprehended Frank when Luther died? "How do you know that, Mr. Garland?"

"Everybody knows. They just don't talk about it. Jessie was a receptionist at the mill. She was always nice to Luther and he had a crush on her, but Frank didn't like it. When Jessie went missing, Frank was sure that Luther had done something to her. Turns out the old gal killed herself, but Frank didn't know that. They found Luther with a chain around his neck. He was dragged up and down that stretch outside that plant until he was well past dead."

"O'Brien was never arrested?" Dean asked.

"I screamed to every cop in town. They didn't want to look into Frank. He was a pillar of the community. My brother was just the total freak."

"You must have hated Frank O'Brien," Sam noted.

"I did for a long time, but life is too short for hate, son. Frank wasn't thinking straight. His wife had vanished. He was terrified. A damn shame he had to put Luther through the same, but... that's fear. It spreads and spreads."

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It wasn't long before the Winchesters were saying goodbye to Mr. Garland and going out through the backdoors to the back lot of the assisted living place.

"Well, now we know what these are - road burns," Dean said, gesturing to his forearms that had progressively grown more and more with scratches. "And I'm guessing Luther swallowed some wood chips when he was being dragged down that road."

"Makes sense," Delaney said, placing her hands on her hips when she stopped at her side of the car. "You're experiencing his death in slow motion."

"Yeah, well, not slow enough, huh? Say we burn some bones and get me healthy."

Sam frowned and leant his arms on the top of the roof, shaking his head. "Dean, it's not gonna be that easy."

Dean froze in trying to unlock the Impala so they could get in and go back to the motel. "Why wouldn't it be easy?"

"Luther was road hauled. His body was ripped to pieces. He was probably scattered all over that road. There is no way we can find all the remains and burn them."

"You're kidding me," Dean deflated and Delaney's heart broke as she could see the fight slowly going out of him.

"We can figure something else out," Sam assured him.

"You know what? Screw this," Dean walked around the Impala, clutching the keys in his hand. "I mean, come on, guys. What are we doing?!"

Sam froze as he eyed Dean for a moment, speaking to Dean as if he were speaking to a four year old. "We're hunting a ghost, Dean."

"A ghost - exactly. Who does that?" Dean cried, slapping his hands to his side. 

"Us."

"Us? Right. And that, guys - that is exactly why our lives suck. I mean, come on. We hunt monsters! What the hell?! I mean, normal people, they see a monster and they run. Not us - no, no, no. We - we search out things that want to kill us. Yeah? Huh? Or eat us! You know who does that? Crazy people! We... are insane! You know, and then there's the bad diner food and then skeevy motel rooms that I hate putting our baby sister in because she shouldn't have to hear what happens on the other side of the wall. Then the truck-stop waitress with the bizarre rash. I mean, who wants this life? Mom sure as hell didn't want us to live this life. Dad tried to keep Delaney normal for as long as he possibly could! Why are we still doing this shit?"

Delaney felt her heart fall further and further into her stomach with every word Dean spoke. His actual worries were being thrown out there and she just wanted to hug her brother and tell him it would be okay. That they would be able to find another way because they always did. However, Delaney's own anxiety was rearing its ugly head once again because she honestly didn't know what they could do. Once again she had to watch her brother slowly die and it was giving her serious PTSD of when Dean was on his way to Hell. It was a horrible feeling to have her lungs feel as if they were being squeezed tightly in a fist and a million different awful scenarios ran across her mind of what could happen if they didn't save him in time once again.

"I mean, do either of you actually like being stuck in a car with me for eight hours every day? I don't think so! I mean, I drive too fast and I listen to the same five albums over and over and over again. I sing along to them. I'm annoying, I know that. Then you, Sammy, you're gassy! You eat a burrito and you get toxic. And Delaney, you're a brat sometimes. If you don't get something to go your way, you throw a fit and give me an attitude ninety percent of the time! You know what? You can forget it." 

Dean suddenly tossed the keys to Delaney who jumped as the cold metal suddenly hit her hands. 

"Dean, where are you going?" Sam called to Dean who began to walk in the opposite direction.

"Stay away from me," Dean ordered, pointing a finger in his siblings' direction who both looked upset over Dean's little outburst. "Cause I am done with it. I'm done with the monsters and - and - and the Hellhounds and the ghost sickness and the damn apocalypse. I'm out. I'm done. Quit."

Delaney's eyes welled as she watched Dean walk away and she glanced up to Sam who had pulled her into his side, rubbing her back soothingly. They really needed to find a cure before Delaney had a heart attack of her own.

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

The next morning, Delaney paced back and forth outside the mill where her and Sam waited for Bobby to show up. They left Dean back at the motel room to keep him as safe as possible until they went back. Sam decided to call Bobby the night before after they found Dean having a hallucination of something when they finally got into the motel room. He didn't say what it was, but Dean paled anytime he looked at Delaney. So she knew it had something to do with her, but decided to brush it off. 

As time continued to tick down, Delaney felt like she was back to five months ago when Dean was in his final hours with his deal. The intense anxiety where it was extremely hard to breathe and her breath wheezed every now and then. The constant fear of not being able to do it in time and what would happen if they were too late. Even right then, Delaney felt her breathing come out shallower and wheezier as time passed while they waited for Bobby.

"Delly..."

Delaney stopped her pacing and turned to Sam who sat on the hood of the Impala, eyes following her every move. He slid down the hood a bit so he was sat on the end and frowned at the frazzled state Delaney was in. "Sammy, I - what if... I can't..."

Sam quickly slid off the hood and rushed over to Delaney who had gone ghostly pale and chest heaved scarily as she tried to catch her breath. He placed his hands on her shoulders and made her look at him. "Delly, hey... hey. Deep breaths."

Delaney shook her head as tears welled in her eyes, all the bad thoughts bouncing around in her head only making her anxiety worse. "Sammy, I can't - I can't lose him again. It was hard enough the first time. I - "

"Listen, we aren't going to lose him, you hear me? Now take deep breaths or you're going to make yourself sick or pass out. You won't be any good to Dean dead or passed out," Sam said and made her take deep breaths until it was at least a normal pace again. "Good girl. Now, I promise you that with Bobby's help we will save Dean and he'll live till he's old and even more annoying than he is now, okay? Big brother's honor."

Delaney sniffled and wiped her leather sleeve beneath her nose with a weak nod, allowing Sam to bring her into his chest and hold her as she slowly tried to calm herself down. The sound of another car approaching alerted the two siblings to Bobby's arrival and, once he was parked, the older man made his way over to the two siblings.

"Laney, you okay?" Bobby asked, noticing how pale she looked.

"She'll be okay," Sam promised Bobby, not taking his arms from her in case she still needed the comfort. Which Delaney definitely did. "Thanks for coming out so quick."

"Where's Dean?"

"Uh... home sick," Sam chuckled softly at his joke, but stopped when Delaney pinched his back. Not appreciating his joke at the moment. "His hallucinations started a few hours ago."

Bobby pulled himself up onto the hood and Sam got Delaney to take a seat next to Bobby so she could continue to calm herself down from her sudden panic. "How we doing on time?"

"We saw the coroner at eight am on Monday morning so, uh..." Sam trailed off to check his watch which showed it was just over six am. "Just under two hours. What about you? You find anything?"

"This, uh, encyclopedia of spirits dates to the Edo period."

Delaney took the small brown leather book that Bobby held out and flipped it open to see it was written all in Japanese. "Uncle Bobby, you can read Japanese?" She forced a small smile onto her face when Bobby spoke back in Japanese, still feeling like she was having an out of body experience. "Guess so."

"Anyway, this book lists a kind of ghost that could be our guy. It, uh, infects people with fear. It's called a BuruBuru."

"It say how to kill it?" Sam asked, taking the book from Delaney to flip through it.

"Same as usual - burn the remains."

Delaney frowned up at Sam who glanced at her over the book. "Wonderful. So there's no Plan B?"

Bobby crossed his arms with a sigh. "The BuruBuru is born of fear. Hell, it is fear and the lore says we can kill it with fear."

"So we have to scare a ghost to death?" Sam questioned incredulously.

"Pretty much."

"How the hell we gonna do that?"

It didn't take long for Sam to come up with half baked plan to save Dean. He thought if they got an iron chain around Luther's neck, they could drag him through the stretch of road outside the plant until he disappeared out of fear. It wasn't even positive that it would work, but he still called Dean anyway to let him know they had a plan and to hang in just a bit longer. 

Delaney and Bobby stood near the trunk of the Impala getting their salt rifles set up for the plan. Bobby wasn't too sure of the plan, thinking they should come up with something else. However, both him and Delaney knew that this was really their own plan of action at the moment that had the best outcomes. So... they just had to keep positive about the whole thing.

"This is a terrible plan," Bobby said to Sam as he walked back over to the two.

"Yeah, tell me about it," Sam sighed softly, grabbing his own shotgun and took the end of the chain that they were to use with Luther, wrapping it around the back of the Impala.

"I know I said scare the ghost to death, but this?"

Sam rose a challenging eyebrow at Bobby and shut the trunk. "You got a better idea, then I'm listening. Come on, Delly."

Delaney walked beside Sam back to the machine room they had been in the day prior when Luther had attacked them. His spirit was nowhere in sight and the duo waited a few minutes for him to appear but nothing happened until Delaney's walkie-talkie beeped in her hand.

"Any luck?"

"I don't know what's wrong, Uncle Bobby. Last time he came right at us. It's almost like he, uh... like he's scared," Delaney responded, glancing around the room for any sight of Luther. He was nowhere in sight.

"Now what?"

Sam placed his shot gun down on the floor and walked over to the metal desk. "We make it angry." He took the remaining photos of Jessie and began to rip them to shreds. "Hey, Luther! Come on, Luther. Where the hell are you?"

The machine kicked on much like it had the day before and the two turned around to see Luther stood behind them with a sneer on his face. He grabbed Sam by the front of his jacket and hauled him across the room. He crashed to the ground with a small thud and Luther stalked towards him again, flipping Sam onto his back.

Delaney was snapped out of her momentary shock and ran over to the end of chain laid in the dirt where Sam had left it after Bobby had inscribed some type of spell thing into it. She stepped behind Luther and wrapped the chain around his neck and tugged hard as she tied it. "Bobby, step on it!" she yelled into the walkie-talkie once she was sure the chain was secure.

The sound of the Impala speeding off down the road along with the chains untangling themselves was heard before Luther was thrown onto his back. He was pulled out of the mill and out of the line of sight of Delaney and Sam. Delaney held out her hand to help Sam up and the two ran out of the room to see Luther disappear down the stretch of road just as Bobby stopped the Impala.

Delaney leant against Sam as the relief hit her like a bullet train. She had never been more happy for a case to be done in her life.

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

Delaney and Sam had drove back to get Dean from the motel room where they found the dead body of sheriff. Dean had mentioned that the man came in and attacked Dean because he thought the three were doing the investigation to take him down for not apprehending his friend like he should have. However, in the middle of their fight, Al's heart had finally given out to the panic and he died literally just minutes before Sam and Delaney had gotten rid of Luther.

Sam called the ambulance as they checked out of the motel room and hung up with the dispatcher right after giving the address. Dean had taken back over the wheel and Bobby followed behind them, stopping after a few minutes to the side of the road so they could take a much needed break in the quiet.

Dean had handed out beers to Sam, Bobby and Delaney while Sam and Delaney relaxed against the side of the Impala and Bobby leant against the trunk of his own car. "So, you guys road hauled a ghost... with a chain?"

"Iron chain," Delaney corrected Dean, taking a sip of her beer. "Etched with a spell word that Bobby did."

"Hmm. Now that's a new one."

"It was what he was most afraid of," Bobby explained. 

"It was pretty brutal, though."

Dean grinned and nestled himself between Delaney and Sam against the side of the car. "On the upside, I'm still alive, so... uh, go team!"

"Yeah. How you feeling, by the way?" Delaney asked.

"Fine."

"You sure, Dean? Cause this line of work can get awful scary," Bobby teased Dean.

Dean glared at Bobby who merely flashed him a smile in return. "I'm fine. You want to go hunting? I'll hunt. I'll kill anything."

"Awwww. He's adorable," Bobby cooed, earning laughs from Delaney and Sam while Dean grumpily drank his beer. "Alright, I should be heading out. Be safe now." 

Delaney waved goodbye to Bobby along with her brothers and watched him pull back onto the road and head off into the distance. She took another sip of her beer and glanced up at Dean. "So, what did you see at the end?"

Dean scoffed softly and crossed his arms, being mindful not to spill his beer. "Oh, besides a cop beating my ass?" He was quiet for a long moment, eyes flickering between his two siblings. It was obvious he was having a hard time debating on whether to tell them or not. "Howler monkeys. Whole roomful of them. Things creep the hell out of me. Nothing I couldn't handle, though."

Delaney nodded, thinking maybe she had just thought too much into Dean giving her looks the night before. He was pretty torn up the whole night and in the morning before Sam and Delaney left to meet up with Bobby. She was just glad Dean was still alive and decided to just let it go, enjoying the fact that they didn't have to worry about anything again.

You know, besides the impending apocalypse.

AUTHORS NOTE

Hi hey hello

I have been waiting to do this chapter with Delaney for the LONGEST time. YELLOW FEVER was always one of my favorites of Season Four and I couldn't wait to do it for Delaney. Her anxiety had really hit her this chapter and it was rough to write because my poor baby. Serious PTSD of Dean going to Hell can really freak anyone out, really. But it's all good because he was saved and now Delaney is okay... for now. You know... until more Winchester drama pops up.