It's painful, watching Bobby like this. The brothers and I are standing in the kitchen doorway watching Bobby as he's sitting at his desk drinking.
"Say something." I whisper to the boys.
"No. You." Dean says to Sam.
"No. You." Sam says to me. We play rock-paper-scissors. Dean and I pick scissors while Sam picks paper.
"Uh..." Sam says.
"You three gonna stand there like the ugly girl at prom or are you gonna pitch in? This so-called Eve, mother of whatever, ain't gonna gank herself. What's wrong with you three?" Bobby says.
"Bobby, you haven't slept in days." Dean says.
"I sleep. What are you, my wife now?"
"I'm just saying that, you know, taking five might be a good thing."
"For whom?"
"Look, Bobby, it was... it was tough for all of us, seeing Rufus go like that." Sam says.
"You think this...? This ain't about Rufus."
"Bobby, he wasn't just a poker buddy." I say.
"You know when I knew Rufus was done for? The day I met him. The only question was, who first - him or me? Now, you want to stand there and therapize, or you want to get me some coffee? Make it Irish." The boys and I walk into the kitchen.
"Well, he's doing fantastic." I say sarcastically.
"Yeah, this isn't about Rufus at all." Sam says.
"Well, what do you want to do? I mean, we can't just sit here and watch him poop out his liver." Dean says.
"Well, we could get him out of the house. There's a job."
"Really? What've you got?" I ask. Sam pulls a newspaper clipping out of his jacket pocket. "Look. Chester, Pennsylvania. Three people got kicked off in the last week, all freaky. Last guy got karate-chopped by his garage door. And these are all blood relatives."
"What are you thinking, family curse?" I ask.
"Could be."
"Hey, grumpy!" Dean yells to Bobby as he's walking up behind us. "You, uh-?"
"I don't want to do crap. Leave me alone. Just, get out of my house, all of you. You're driving me nuts."
"Bobby."
"Now! For the love of Pete." The three of us walk out to Dean's car. I love this car. Black mustang with brown stripes on the hood.
"You know, maybe we should wait till she gets back." I say once we're all seated.
"Babe, she just called form the road, said she'd be here in two shales. You really want to sit around and smell him stew in his juices?"
"Yeah, yeah. Drive." Dean drives off. We're off to Chester, PA.
As soon as we get there we head to the latest victim's house where his head got cut off in his garage. We're all looking around with flashlights. Dean has the EMF meter on
"Not a bleep." Dean says.
"Well, not a vengeful spirit then. So what is it?" Sam asks. "Huh."
"Whatcha got? What is that, Christmas tinsel?" I ask. Sam is holding something gold in his hand.
"I don't know." He rubs the thread against a flower pot and it leaves a gold streak. "It's gold."
"You mean like, gold gold?" Dean asks.
"Why would a handyman have gold just lying around in his garage?" I ask.
"I don't know. There is definitely a skeleton in this family's closet. I mean, accidents don't just happen accidentally." Me and Sam give Dean a 'what' look. "You know what I mean."
"Alright. How about I'll go check family records, you two go with next of kin?" Sam says.
"Yeah." Dean and I agree.
Sam goes to the library while Dean and I check out Mr. Russo. Big time lawyer. We get into his office by way of his secretary. When we enter the office we introduce ourselves as being from the local university right as he gets a phone call.
"On the courthouse steps, for the deposition. No, I told you, 3:00 pm. No, my usual fees. I got to go, Ma." He hangs up his phone and turns to Dean and I. "I'm sorry, uh, what department?"
"Genealogy. From the university. We're doing a study on local families, and well, the Russos are-" Dean says.
"Yeah, well, you know what? I got to tell you, I am extremely busy right now, so-"
"Yeah, I-I'm sure you've had a rough week. I, uh, read about the recent tragedies. Your cousins, right?" I ask.
"Yeah. It's a shame. But I'm not that close with my family, so, uh, is this gonna take long?"
"No. Five minutes. Uh, can you tell us anything noteworthy about the Russos?" Dean asks.
"Noteworthy? No. I mean, not exactly...average, you know, big, from Italy."
"I see. Uh, was anyone ever killed or maimed in a war, or you know, some other violent thing?" I ask.
"What do you mean?" Russo asks.
"Like something so dark that it would sully future generations."
"Uh... No."
"Good. Good stuff. Anyone own a slave?" Dean asks.
"What?"
"Routine question. Any ties to the Nazi Party?" I ask.
"Excuse me?"
"Did grandma ever piss off a gypsy?" Dean asks.
"Okay. You know what?" Russo stands up. "I don't know what kind of study you're doing, but it's over. Right now. So if you don't mind-"
"Okay. We'll just have to cut to the chase here." I say as Dean and I stand up. "Um, your life is in danger."
"What? What is that, a threat? Are you threatening me?!"
"No, no, no. No, no. We're not threatening you. We're just simply saying that if you don't watch your back, you're gonna die." Dean says.
"Get the hell out of my office."
"Okay." I say.
"Now!" Dean and I pretty much run out of there. I call Sam once we're outside.
"Hey." Sam says as he answers.
"Sam." I say.
"Find anything?"
"Uh, one asshat in a shiny suit. You?"
"Not much. Great grandparents born in Calabria. Emigrated in 1912. Been here ever since."
"What, no severed horse head?" I ask.
"Ha. Four generations of picket fence."
"If these people are the Waltons, then why the hell are they dying?" I ask as Dean and I get in his car and I hang up. We go to pick up Sam from the library and then head to a motel and check in. There was another murder during the day. We head over there at night, Sam looks her up first.
Once in the office we start looking around with our flashlights. I grab a business card from the desk.
"Anne Witting. You sure she's not a Russo, a second cousin twice removed or something?" I ask.
"No, I check the records twice. She's not related."
"Well, if this isn't a family curse, then what the hell is it?" Dean asks.
"You got me. I got nothing." I say. Sam goes through some papers.
"Hold on. Not nothing." Dean picks up another gold thread. We head back to the motel.
Sam is on his laptop while Dean and I are on the phone with Ellen.
"So, we found another piece of this, I don't know, shiny string." I say.
"Oh, I was afraid of that." Ellen says.
"Why? What's up?" Dean asks.
"Oh, these so-called accidents. We're seeing them nationwide. About 75 so far. I got Jo and her crew working on a cluster in California."
"Blood relatives?" I ask.
"Some yeah, some no. She's got about what you do, pile of bodies and whole bunch of gold thread."
"So what's it mean?" Dean asks.
"I don't know. I got Bobby working on it right now."
"How's he doing, by the way?" I ask.
"Oh, don't worry. I'm kicking his ass back to health and happiness."
"Who asked you to? To hell with you." We can hear Bobby say.
"We heard that." Dean says.
"He'll be okay." Ellen says.
"Are you okay?"
"Aw honey, you're sweet. You know me. I just worry about you three."
"Yeah, well. Alright so, all these corpses, anything relate them?" I ask.
"Well, actually, I did dig up one thing. I just don't know what to make of it."
"Hit me." Dean says.
"Well, it's a weird one and it was buried pretty deep, but Bobby and me were combing through the family trees on all the victims, and we started seeing, well, the families all came over to America the same year."
"Hmm." I say.
"Yeah. 1912. But here's the real weird part. They all came over on the same boat." Ellen says.
"Really?"
"Yep."
"Alright. What was so special about this boat?" Dean asks.
"Nothing. It was a boat. It did what boats do."
"What was it called?" I ask.
"The Titanic. Did you ever hear of it?"
"No." Dean and I say.
"Yeah, me neither. I'll keep digging."
"Alright." Dean says then hangs up.
"Does the name Titanic ring a bell?" I ask Sam.
"Titanic? No." Sam says. He types something on his laptop. "The RMS Titanic was the largest passenger steamship in the world when it made its maiden voyage across the North Atlantic in 1912."
"So what's the big friggin' deal? It's a ship. It sailed." Dean says.
"Yeah, I don't know. Um... Oh, looks like there was a close call. Ship almost hit an iceberg."
"Almost? So?" I say.
"So, uh, looks like the first mate spotted it just in time."
"Good for him. Anything else?" Dean asks.
"Wait a second." Sam says.
"Uh, the first mate. Mr. I.P. Freeley."
"Well, that's not suspicious. You got a picture of old Freeley?" Dean asks.
"Oh, you got to be kidding me."
"Let's see." I say. Dean and I go over to Sam to see the picture. "Balthazar." The boys start getting a summoning ritual together to summon Balthazar here. I close the curtains of the room. As soon as the lit match is dropped in the bowl, Balthazar appears.
"Whatever can I do for you?" He asks.
"We need to talk." Dean says.
"You seem upset, Dean."
"The hell with the boat, Balthazar?"
"What boat?"
"The titanic." Sam says.
"Oh. Ja. The Titanic. Yes, well, uh, it was meant to sink and I saved it.
"What?" I ask.
"Well it was meant to bash into this iceberg thing and plunge into the briny deep with all this hoopla, and I saved it. Anything else I can answer for you?"
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why did you un-sink the ship?" Dean asks.
"Oh, because I hated the movie."
"What movie?"
"Exactly." Balthazar says then laughs.
"Wait, so you saved a cruise liner because-"
"Because that god-awful Celine Dion song made me want to smite myself." He interrupts Sam.
"Who's Celine Dion?" I ask.
"Oh, she's a destitute lounge singer somewhere in Quebec, and let's keep it that way, please."
"Okay, I didn't think that was possible. I thought you couldn't change history." Sam says.
"Oh, haven't you noticed? There's no more rules."
"Wow. The nerve on you. So you just, what, un-sunk a giant boat?" I ask.
"Oh come one. I saved people. I thought you loved that kind of thing."
"Yeah, but now those people and their kids, and their kids' kids, they must have interacted with so many other people, changed so much crap. You totally Butterfly-Effected history!" Sam says.
"Dude. Dude. Rule one, no Kutcher references." Dean says.
"Ah, yes. Unfortunately, there's still an Ashton Kutcher. And you still averted the Apocalypse, and there are still Archangels. It's just the small details that are different, like you don't drive an Impala." Wait what? "Yes, yes. 'What's an Impala?' Trust me, it's not important. And, of course, Ellen and Jo are alive." Balthazar walks over to the counter, picks up a bottle and pours himself a drink.
"Ellen and Jo? What?" Dean asks.
"Yes, they're supposed to be dead. You see, I save a boat, one thing leads to another, which leads to another thousand things, and yada, yada, yada. To cut a long story short, they don't die in a massive explosion." He takes a sip of the drink. "Mmm. Anyway, let's agree I did a good thing. One less Billy Zane movie and I saved two of your closest friends."
"But somebody is killing the descendants of the survivors." Sam says.
"And?" Balthazar asks.
"And that's maybe like 50,000 people." I say.
"And?"
"And we need to save as many people as we can, but we need to know who's after them."
"Oh, uh, sorry, uh. You have me confused with the other angel, you know, the one in the dirty trench coat who's in love with you. I... don't care. Goodbye." Balthazar then disappears.
"Whoa, whoa, wait, wait, wait, wait. Son of a bitch!" Well, time to update Ellen and Bobby.
This time the phones goes on speaker as we let Bobby know what happened.
