Epilogue

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or LOST

"The exhausting search for Oceanic Flight 815 has ended, today, in tragedy with the discovery of the underwater wreckage in the Sunda Trench near Bali. This has been the main priority of government and Oceanic funded search groups since the aircraft's strange disappearance almost a month and a half ago. It is being reported that there were no survivors discovered. Oceanic has scheduled a candle ceremony on Friday to mourn the loss of their loyal passengers and esteemed family of employees.

…and in National News, experts in Toledo, Ohio are not yet ready to rule out spontaneous human combustion as the reason behind a recent string of identical deaths that continue to occur. So far, there have been three bodies discovered in which the victim's eyes were completely melted.

In Arkeny, Iowa, police are still on the lookout for a killer at large. With the gruesome deaths of Richard Harper, Taylor Shultz and Reverend Timothy Sorenson, police have officially categorized this as a serial killer and are warning residents to remain cautious during nighttime hours and to remember to lock their doors and windows.

Finally, in St. Louis, Missouri a protest group led by Rebecca Warren has been arrested for unlawful behavior as they barricaded an entire street late this afternoon. The protest was held for Rebecca Warren's brother, Zachary Warren, whom she claims was unlawfully arrested for the murder of his girlfriend. Rebecca claims that she was with her brother during the attack on Emily Watford and that his civil rights have been violated…"

John Winchester tuned out the background noise from the television as it flickered in and out in his motel room. He stretched his senses out as far as they would go and waited. He had felt it, consistently, for the last month. Someone or something had been tailing him to every location he went.

He'd been able to shake the feeling a few times, but then he'd barely get through a complacent hour before he felt the hair on his arms stand up on edge and the pit of his stomach would ignite before he quickly packed up and moved on. One entire month spent trying to stay one step ahead of something that he could only identify, so far, as a feeling was driving him crazy.

Not anymore, though.

He could barely contain the tiny smirk that graced his features in the darkness as that same and familiar feeling lit up his body in awareness. It was here. He laid himself out on the dingy motel bed, schooled his features and closed his eyes languidly. He felt his heartbeat speed up slightly as he evened out his breathing and even allowed a few snores to escape his mouth.

Sulfur. He could now, officially, categorize the "feeling" as demonic.

John was positive that when he looked back on this moment, he'd wonder how the pounding of his heart hadn't overpowered his even breathing. He picked up the sounds of somebody else in his room to accompany the unnatural smell of possession and waited as patiently as he could.

Just a few more steps…come on.

"This is gonna be easier than killing a baby and then taking their candy," he heard a woman murmur on his left hand side, her voice filled with sick glee.

"The only difference is that a baby wouldn't have had the foresight to draw a devil's trap at the three points surrounding the bed they were pretending to sleep on," he spoke up over the television.

He opened his eyes and flashed the thing next to his bed a smugly dazzling smile as he sat up slowly and pointed the remote control at the television to mute it. Her eyes flashed black and widened in the light from the pictures being broadcast from the television before her shocked gaze shot to the ceiling. His smile turned to a chuckle as a low growl emanated from her throat. "This won't hold me."

"You seem pretty sure of yourself on that," he responded as he turned his back on her and rummaged around in the old nightstand next to his bed. He intentionally took longer than necessary to pull out the brand new journal he'd purchased and a gun, just to screw with the monster. He knew the demon was probably seething at the sight of a hunter's back turned on it, especially since it was trapped with no way to get to him. So, he felt like rubbing salt in the wound a little bit, this thing hadn't let him get a good night's sleep for a whole month.

He opened his journal to the exorcism ritual that he had finally been able to coerce Bobby into reading over the telephone and set it down on the bed before he graced the woman with an unimpressed look. "Well?"

"I'll kill you when I get out of this…"

"You mean…IF you get out of this," he corrected her with a chuckle. "And that'll be after you claw your way back out of hell."

The demon's eyes widened in fear for a brief moment before she visibly relaxed and took a casual seat on the stained motel carpet. "Actually, I don't think you'll be sending anybody to hell, Johnny Boy."

"Well then, you've either never heard of me or clearly don't believe what you have heard," John told her with an incredulous shake of his head. "Before we get down to the fun stuff, I wanna know why you've been following me around. Just know that if you decide not to talk, I can make your last few moments on earth very agonizing."

"That's what you wanna know, huh?" The demon asked around a laugh as she inspected her host's fingernails. "Well, you know what I wanna know? Just how long has it been since you've spoken to Junior? He does usually leave you a voicemail or text message to check in, right?"

John's composure slipped as he glanced over at his cell phone and realized that there hadn't been any recent message notifications popup in almost two months. How was it even possible that he hadn't noticed that Dean hadn't contacted him in so long, but a demon was pointing it out to him?

"Seems like it's not just my family that doesn't stay in contact," she told him as she continued her fingernail inspection of the woman she was wearing. "It definitely seems like you and I might need each other."

"How in the hell do you figure that I'd ever need or want your help?" John growled as he crossed the room and picked up his cell phone. He scrolled through his contacts until it landed on Dean's name and pressed the green call button.

He cursed under his breath as his phone bypassed ringing and went straight to voicemail. "This is Dean Winchester. If this is an emergency, leave a message. If you are calling about 11-2-83, page me with your coordinates."

John snapped his phone shut and looked back over at the demon as a smug smile lit up on its stolen face. "Where is he?"

"You think we have him?" She asked in amazement as she rolled her black eyes. "Why would I be following you around if I had Junior? All I'd have to do is dangle him on a sting and you'd have come straight to me."

"You wouldn't have brough him up unless you knew something, so I'll ask you again. Where is he?" John hissed as he pulled out a silver flask and held it up for the demon to see. Her eyes widened as she allowed the smile to slide from her lips and stood back up.

"He's probably in the same place as my father," she hissed at him as he unscrewed the flask with a shake of his head. "Why the hell do you think I've been following you around, Johnny Boy? I had several opportunities to take you out, that I could have acted on, but I didn't. I didn't because I need your help."

John screwed up his face with a chuckle as he flicked the flask in her direction and watched in satisfaction as several drops sizzled on her skin. She bit her bottom lip and kept her eyes locked on his as she managed to get through the holy water without screaming once. "If you think it impresses me that you stood tall against a few drops, think again."

"I don't give a rat's ass what you think about me," she hissed back at him with a grimace. "What I do know, however, is that if you don't accept my help, you'll never see your dear boys again."

"The only way that you could possibly make a threat like that is if you know exactly what happened to them," John hissed as he splashed another round of holy water on her. Her skin sizzled as she closed her eyes against the agony and breathed in and out of her nose deeply.

"Look, the last time that I heard from my father, he was on a plane. The very plane where he had a close and watchful yellow eye trained on your dear sons," she told John with a smile. John gasped at her statement as the flask fell from his slack grip onto the dingy carpet in shock as the demon let out a deep laugh. "Oh, that's right… you have a special vendetta against dear old daddy, don't you? Well, there's no reason for you to worry, I'm sure wherever he and the next generation of Winchesters are they're keeping each other company."

John gritted his teeth as he reached down and picked the flask back up before he emptied the rest of its contents onto the demon and grinned wide as she screamed out in pain. He wound up and threw the emptied container against a wall before he stomped out of his motel room and slammed the door behind him.

What the hell was he thinking? Sure he hadn't heard from his sons in a while, but just because a demon pointed it out didn't mean that anything was wrong. She was just exploiting his feelings so he would release her and give her the opportunity to kill him. She was a demon…demons lied.

"I didn't think it was possible, but you look just as bad as you did the last time that I saw you," a voice shouted from behind him. John's shoulders stiffened as he slowly turned around and cocked an inquisitive eyebrow at the man in front of him. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and scoffed as he stepped towards him.

"Yeah, well, the last time you saw me, you almost filled me full of buckshot," John reminded him in a barely controlled tone. "What are you doing here, Bobby?"

Bobby pushed off of the wall he had leaned on next to John's motel room door and shrugged around a sigh. "It sounded like you might be in some deep shit when you called me for that exorcism ritual," he explained. "By the way, if you didn't want to be found, you should have called me from an unknown number so that I wouldn't have been able to track the area code and then turn on the tracker that I managed to put under the truck before you bought it from me."

"You put a damn tracker under my truck?" John growled incredulously.

"Yeah, and you didn't find it," Bobby threw back with a laugh. "Some damn hunter you turn out to be."

"Did you come all the way out here just to bust my balls or are you actually interested in helping me work over the demon that I've got trapped in my room," John asked him. He watched as Bobby's eyes widened significantly as his arms dropped to his sides.

"You've got a damn demon trapped in your room?"

"Oh yeah I do," John confirmed. "It just so happens to be the exact same demon that's been following me around for a month."

"A demon's been following you?" Bobby asked incredulously. At John's slow nod he let out a chuckle of disbelief. "Why's she been following you? Why not just kill you and get it over with?"

"That's what I asked," John told him with a grin. "She claims that she needs my help to find her father."

"Her father?" Bobby asked. "Demon's have family members?"

"Apparently," John admitted. "Not only that, but she tells me that her father is the yellow eyed son of a bitch himself."

Bobby's jaw dropped in shock before he recovered and shot his longtime friend with a confused look. "Why would you help that monster find the very evil you've been hunting for Sam's entire life?"

"Because, in return, she's told me that she's willing to help me find Sam and Dean."

Bobby sucked in an anxious breath as he held up his hand to stop John from speaking again as fear coursed through his body. "Are Sam and Dean missing?"

Author's Note: That's all folks. Well, that's all until the first chapter of "Swan Song Station" gets posted. Once again, thanks to all the people that followed this story and reviewed as it was updated…y'all rock the casbah!