The Family Business [Supernatural] {1}

4.2 40 Minutes

We pulled up in front of the house, "So here we are. George Phelps, seat 20C," Sam said. "Hmm. Man, I don't care how strong you are," Dean said. We climbed out of the car. "Even yoked up on PCP or something, no way you can open up an emergency door during a flight."

"Not if you're human. But maybe this guy George was something else. Some kind of creature, maybe, in human form," Sam suggested. "Does that look like a creature's lair to you?" I asked and the three of us looked at the perfectly ordinary house.

Me and my brothers sat across from Mrs. Phelps. Sam was looking at a framed photograph. "This is your late husband?" He asked. Mrs. Phelps nodded. "Yes, that was my George," She replied. "And you said he was a . . . dentist?" Dean asked as Sam put the photograph back to it's place. "Mm-hm. He was headed to a convention in Denver. Do you know that he was petrified to fly? For him to go like that . . ." Mrs. Phelps said.

"How long were you married?" I asked. "Thirteen years," Mrs. Phelps replied with a smile. "In all that time, did you ever notice anything . . . strange about him, anything out of the ordinary?" I asked. "Well . . . uh, he had acid reflux, if that's what you mean," Mrs. Phelps said. Sam, Dean and I looked at each other.

Me, Sam and Dean walked down the stairs front after thanking her. "It doesn't make any sense," I said. "A middle-aged dentist with an ulcer is not exactly evil personified. You know what we need to do is get inside that NTSB warehouse, check out the wreckage," Dean said. "If we're gonna go that route, we'd better look the part," Sam said and I frowned.

...................

I leaned on the Impala as I waited outside the "MORT'S for style". Sam and Dean got out of the store. I burst out laughing as I saw my brothers were wearing crisp black suits with white shirts. I stopped when I saw Dean gave me a death glance. "Man, I look like one of the Blues Brothers," Dean said as Sam adjusted his collar.

"No, you don't. You look more like a . . ." Sam said. "Seventh-grader at his first dance," I said. Sam smirked while Dean looked down at himself. "I hate this thing," He grumbled. "Hey. You want into that warehouse or not?" Sam asked, making Deanto only sigh before we climbed into the car. Dean started the car and we drove off.

While Sam and Dean were inside the storage warehouse, I was waited in the back seat of the car. I listened to songs in my phone but suddenly froze when I saw two REAL agents in black suits walking to the building.

My eyes grow wide and I called Dean. "Yeah," Dean's voice said. "Get out. Now," I ordered. "Got it," Dean's voice said and I hang up.

After a long moment, an alarm blared. Then I saw Dean and Sam walking to the car and they climbed in. "Did you guys had fun?" I asked sarcastically. Dean smirked as he started the car. "Yeah," He said sarcastically before we drove off.

We got back to Jerry's office. Jerry looked at the yellow stuff that my brothers found, through his microscope. "Huh," Jerry said. "What?" I asked. "This stuff is covered in sulfur," He replied. "You're sure?" Sam asked, frowning. "Take a look for yourself," Jerry said. There was a banging sounds from outside the office. "If you fellows will excuse me, I have an idiot to fire," Jerry said as he walked out.

Dean walked over and looked into the microscope. "Hmm," Dean said and looked up. "You know, there's not too many things that leave behind a sulfuric residue," Dean pointed out.

"Demonic possession?" I suggested. "It would explain how a mortal man would have the strength to open up an emergency hatch," Dean said. "If the guy was possessed, it's possible," Sam said.

"This goes way beyond floating over a bed or barfing pea soup. I mean it's one thing to possess a person, but to use them to take down an entire airplane?" Dean said. "You ever heard of something like this before?" Sam asked. I shook my head as Dean spoke, "Never."

...................

We were in full research mode. Sam was in his laptop while Dean and I were reading on the beds. "So, every religion in every world culture has the concept of demons and demonic possession, right? I mean Christian, Native American, Hindu, you name it," Sam said.

"Yeah, but none of them describe anything like this," Dean said. "Well, that's not exactly true. You see according to Japanese beliefs, certain demons are behind certain disasters, both natural and man-made. One causes earthquakes, another causes disease," Sam said.

"And this one causes plane crashes?" Dean asked. Dean got up. "All right, so, what? We have a demon that's evolved with the times and found a way to ratchet up the body count?" He asked. "Yeah. You know, who knows how many planes it's brought down before this one?" Sam said. Dean snorted and turned away. I frowned. "What?" I asked.

"I don't know. This isn't our normal gig. I mean, demons, they don't want anything, just death and destruction for its own sake. This is big. And I wish Dad was here," Dean said. I looked down. "Same," I said. "Yeah. Me too," Sam said. Dean's phone rang and he answered it.

"Hello? Oh, hey, Jerry," Dean said. They his eyes grow wide. "Wha -- Jerry, I'm sorry. What happened?" I frowned. "Where'd this happen?" Dean asked. "I'll try to ignore the irony in that. Nothing. Jerry, hang in there, all right? We'll catch up with you soon." He hang up. "Another crash?" I asked. Dean nodded. "Yeah. Let's go," He said. "Where?" Sam asked. "Nazareth," Dean replied and we left the room.

We drove to Nazareth and then we got to Jerry's office. Jerry was looking through the microscope again. "Sulfur?" I asked. Jerry looked away from the microscope and nodded. "Well, that's great. All right, that's two plane crashes involving Chuck Lambert. This demon sounds like it was after him," Dean said.

"With all due respect to Chuck, if that's the case, that would be the good news," Sam said. "What's the bad news?" Dean asked. "Chuck's plane went down exactly 40 minutes into flight. And get this, so did flight 2485," Sam said. "40 minutes? What does that mean?" Jerry asked.

"It's biblical numerology. You know Noah's ark, it rained for 40 days. The number means death," Dean explained. "I went back, and there have been 6 plane crashes over the last decade that all went down exactly 40 minutes in," Sam said. "Any survivors?" Dean asked. "No. Or not until now, at least, not until flight 2485, for some reason. On the cockpit voice recorder, remember what the EVP Said?" Sam asked.

"'No survivors,'" I repeated. I started thinking about what it means. "It's going after all the survivors. It's trying to finish the job," I said and Sam nodded.

...................

It's was night, I was in the back seat while Dean was driving and Sam was sitting in the passenger seat, talking on the phone. "Really? Well, thank you for taking our survey, and if you do plan to fly, please don't forget your friends at United Britannia Airlines. Thanks," Sam said and he hung up. "All right. That takes care of Blaine Sanderson and Dennis Holloway. They're not flying anytime soon."

"So our only wildcard is the flight attendant Amanda Walker," I said. "Right. Her sister Karen said her flight leaves Indianapolis at eight pm. It's her first night back on the job," Sam said. "That sounds like just our luck," Dean said. "Dean, this is a 5 hour drive, man, even with you behind the wheel," Sam said.

"Why don't you call Amanda's cellphone again, see if we can't head her off at the pass," Dean said. "I already left her three voice messages. She must have turned her cellphone off," Sam said. "We're never gonna make it," I said. "We'll make it," Dean said.