Bonds Tested

Red Sky At Morning -- Stench of Sex

~*****~

"With what started out as a mild gentle breezy wind, a severe weather front is heading in from the north west," The radio droned on as we drove through the town in silence. "Expect heavy lightning and thunder with sudden rainfall--"

Dean quickly shut the radio off. "You wanna say it, or should I?" Dean asked.

"What?" I inquire after sharing a confused look with Sam.

"You can't save everybody, guys." Dean stated.

Another confused look. "Yeah, right. So-- So, what? You feel better now or what?" Sam asked.

"No, not really." Dean shrugged.

"Yeah, me neither." Sam agreed.

"You gotta under--"

"It's just lately I feel like I can't save anybody." Sam immediately cuts off Dean.

We head to a known hunter pit stop and lay low. When morning arrived, a knock echoed through the house, causing me to shoot upright from my position on the couch. Dean held his hand out, urging me to stay put before strolling over to the door, and opening the hatch. His shoulders sagged in what looked like disappointment before opening the door.

"Dear god," Bela's voice rang out. "Are you actually squatting? Charming." I stretch upwards and stand from the couch. "So, how did things go last night with Peter?" No one answered her. "That well, huh?"

"If you say, I told you so..." Dean trails off. "I swear to God, I'll start swingin'."

"Look, I think the four of us should have a heart-to-heart." Bela hummed.

"That's assuming you have a heart." Dean commented.

"Dean, please," Bela chides. "I'm sorry about what I said before, okay? I come bearing gifts."

I gesture to her. "Anything is better than you, to be honest." I retort.

"I've ID'ed the ship." She shoots back. She opens up her small binder and pulls out photos from inside. "It's the Espirito Santo, a merchant sailing vessel. Quite a colorful history. In 1859, a sailor was accused of treason. He was tried aboard ship in a kangaroo court and hanged. He was thirty-seven."

"That would explain the thirty-seven year cycle." I hum.

"Aren't you a sharp tack?" Bela coos. "There's a photo of him somewhere. Here--" She holds out a picture of the man I saw last night in Peter's car.

"Isn't that the customer we saw last night?" Dean questions as he peers down at it.

"You saw him?" Bela quickly interjects.

"Yeah, that's him." I nod. "Except he was missing a hand."

"His right hand." Bela clarifies.

"Yeah, how'd you know?" I ask.

"The sailor's body was cremated, but not before they cut off his hand. They made a Hand of Glory." Bela explained.

"A hand of glory?" Dean echoed. "I think Lottie knows how to give those."

My hand whacks Dean upside the head. "The right hand of a hanged man is an occult object." I explain. "It's very powerful."

"So they say." Bela retorts.

"And officially counts as remains." Dean adds.

"But still, none of this explains why the ghost is choosing these victims." Sam mentions.