The Choices We Make

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Sam took the plunge and told Flash everything that had happened, their theories and what they needed him to do. To his credit Flash didn't panic or immediately discount what Sam said.

“Ghosts are real?”

“Yes.”

Flash lowered his head, the earlier laid back attitude he had shown them disappeared. “She can talk to them? Do you think....”

Sam looked at Dean who pursed his lips and looked away. “Flash?” Sam asked

“I, nothing.”

Felicity crossed the room and put her hand on Flash's arm, “We don't know if she can reach certain ones, she may just be using the ones that are closest to her.”

Flash nodded and looked back up at Sam and Dean, “Let me see if I understand this. You want me to carry her into an old furnace at a shut down iron work, then leave her with you two and Oliver while you decide if she's worth saving or not?”

“That's the plan,” Dean said.

“No.”

The entire mood of the room shifted as Dean walked into the center of the group and pointed at Flash. “Here's the deal kid,” all traces of humor left Dean's voice, everyone in the room stilled as he continued, “Ghosts kill, we've seen them work their way through entire families. They can drown you in a sink, shove you through wood chippers, rip you to shreds, electrocute you and drive cars right over you. This chick gives them an even greater edge because she can get them to work together. You're all damn lucky she hasn't killed anyone yet, but she will. It's just a matter of time.”

Flash, to everyone's surprise, didn't back down, “Exactly. She hasn't killed anyone which means she can be talked to. It seems to me that if she's gotten more violent it's because you two shot the ghosts that she thinks are friends.”

“We shot the ghosts because they were terrifying a whole office building full of people,” Sam reminded him.

“Terrifying, not attacking,” Flash said.

“That's it,” Dean snarled and took a few steps to stand toe to toe with Flash. “I'm done. Sam and I have been dealing with things like this our entire lives. You know nothing about what opening yourself up to supernatural energy like she is does to a person. It warps you, twists you, you do it long enough, you're past the point of saving. The only way to put vengeful spirits back to rest is digging up the corpses, salting and burning their bones. If she keeps stirring these things up we may end up spending weeks researching each one, tracking down where they're buried and digging them up. You planning to help with that? Well?”

What they could see of Flash's face paled and he took a step back from Dean. “No, I..,” he stammered.

“If she unleashes twenty angry spirits on a hospital and kills a bunch of kids, or hell, whole floors of people, you going to explain to the cops and the families what happened?” Dean pressed. “We've seen ghosts do that too.”

“I...”

“Dean, that's enough,” Sam said.

Dean didn't even turn his head, “No, it's not. It's not nearly enough. I don't know what made you choose to get into this life but this isn't some game where you play dress up and show off your special skills. This is life or death, every damn day. Your choices mean the difference between one person dying or a lot of people dying. Chick controls ghosts, chick is using ghosts as weapons, chick has crossed a line and she has to pay the price. It's that simple.” Dean raked his eyes across the rest of the group, no one moved, “Now you guys can sit here and debate philosophy and who's life is worth more all damn night but Sam and I have work to do. Oliver, where's this iron works? Sam and I will go prep it. Then we track this chick down and end this.”

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