Remnants
Oneiriad

Disclaimer: Neither Supernatural nor Indiana Jones belong to me
A/N: written for neotomo, who wanted SPN/Indiana Jones - That's not the True Cross

"Seriously, Dean, some of this stuff ought to be at a museum, not at some cheap lock-up."

"Yeah, well, you can give one an anonymous tip or something once we've found what we're looking for," and he looks back down, frowning slightly at the piece of paper in his hands before deciding that a rejection of tenure letter is probably not what's keeping the ghost around.

"Dean?" and he looks back up at his brother looking at the corner where the huge woden cross stands, old and suspiciously stained, a fedora dangling jauntily from one sidebar and an old bullwhip curled around the top. Sam is staring at the thing.

"Sam, stop it, okay, it's getting ridiculous. That weird box in the basement was not the Ark of the Covenant and that is not the Cross. Tell him, Cas."

The falling angel looks up from where he's been busily opening and peering into some Egyptian-looking figurines.

"That's not the True Cross, Sam," he says as he stands. Then he tilts his head, consideringly. "It's the Cross of Saint Peter. Though for some reason it appears to be upside down."

Surprisingly, it's Sam who recovers from the predictable jaw-dropping first, stepping forth to grab hold of the hat.

"I was going to say that I thought it might be this we're looking for," and he flips it over, peers inside.

"What, like some hairs stuck in it or something?"

"Yeah."

A movement catches his eye just in time for him to shout a warning as the bullwhip uncoils and strikes, snakelike, ripping the fedora out of Sam's grip.

"You know what, Sam?"

"What?"

"I think you might be on to something," he shouts, fumbling for his shotgun.

The ghost just grins as it raises the whip once more...