Chapter 13: Aunt Hannah

"Did he say what he was hunting?" Sam asks as Dean tears down the road.

Dean shakes his head. "No. But he sounded like he was in danger. And that he might be hurt."

I swallow hard and look out the window. Please be alive when we get to you, I think to myself. He can't die. He's got to be alive. And safe. Oh, God, please let him be safe.

It takes almost three days to get to Tulsa where Michael had called us. We drive around until we find his blue mustang parked in front of a motel. After Sam works his charm to find out which room Michael was staying in, we go and Dean bangs on the door.

"Michael!" Dean yells. "You in there?" After no answer, Dean backs up and then kicks the door open. I gasp at the interior. Everything is broken. A table is smashed to pieces and the bed sheets are completely torn up. The mattress leans up against a wall and a mirror is broken into several miniature pieces.

"Michael?" I say, walking into the room.

"Hey," Dean says, putting a hand on my shoulder, his eyes searching the ground. "Watch where you step. I don't want you to get hurt."

I nod and pick my way carefully through the room. Sam and Dean follow me in, closing the door behind them. "Michael?" I say again.

I'm on the other side of the room when I hear a slight gasp. "Michael!" I run to the mattress and push it away from the wall. Michael sits half way in and half way out of a hole in the wall. Blood cakes his face and his shirt is in tatters. He gasps again, as if trying to say something, but nothing comes out.

"Hey," I say, sitting down next to him. "You're okay. You're going to okay."

Dean comes over and pushes me away, Sam behind him. "Lay that bed out, Emma," Sam says. I do as I am told and position it on the floor. The boys pick Michael up and lay him down on the bed.

"What the hell happened?" Dean asks, looking around the room.

Michael coughs and I sit down next to him. Sam goes into the bathroom and comes back with a damp rag, handing it to me. I begin to clean the blood off his forehead. "He needs water," I say. "Who knows how long he's been sitting there."

Dean leaves the room and then comes back with a bottle of water. Sam helps Michael sit up so that he can drink the water. After drinking a little bit of it, he coughs again and takes the bottle from Sam. "Thanks," he says, his voice scratchy sounding.

"What happened?" Sam asks, concern lacing his words.

Michael shakes his head. "I don't know. I came here on a case, completed it, and then something else started happening. I don't know what, but all I can hear are high pitched screams. I know it's not natural, which is why I called you guys."

Sam thinks for a moment and looks up to Dean. "Think it could be a banshee?"

"What the hell is a banshee?" I ask.

"They're like a female ghost creature. They give off high pitched screams, making sure that only their victims can hear it. These screams causes their victims to bash their heads into a wall or something similar, initially causing them to commit suicide," Dean says, crossing his arms. "Now why the hell would a banshee be after you, kid? Piss off any women recently?"

Michael shakes his head. "I have no idea," he says. He struggles to sit up, but when Sam pushes him back down. "The screams were driving me insane. I saw her last night. She looked pissed."

Sam laughs nervously. "She's probably pissed that you're still alive."

"How do we kill it?" I ask.

"Gold," Dean says. "Pure gold."

I stand up and throw my arms up in desperation. "Where the hell are we supposed to get that?"

Sam shakes his head and stands up. "I have no idea. But we need to find some otherwise she's not going to stop until Michael here is dead."

My heart picks up. "I won't let that happen," I say, looking at Michael.

"Let's get him into the car," Dean says. "We'll head to Bobby's and see if he's got anything."

"My aunt lives closer," Michael says. "Let's go there instead. She might have what we need."

Dean nods and helps Sam pick him back up. Once they have Michael on his feet, they help him limp out of the motel room and into the impala. I climb into the backseat after him and look at him. A large gash marks his forehead and dry blood cakes his hair.

"You're so dumb," I say. "Getting yourself into danger like this."

Michael laughs. "Good to see you, too, Em."

I glare at him, my anger for him returning. "Why didn't you tell me you knew my mother was going to die?"

He freezes and looks straight ahead. "Can we not talk about that right now, please?"

I glare at him even harder. "No. I want to talk about it right now, Michael."

"Em," he says, putting his head down. I watch a tear roll down his cheek.

"Emma," Dean says. I look up and meet his eyes in the rearview mirror. His expression tells me that this isn't the right time and I look away. When I look back at Michael a couple minutes later, I see that he's fallen asleep and I sigh.

I feel a lump form in my throat and I have to look away. He's going to be okay I keep trying to tell myself, but nothing seems to work. Eventually, I lean my head up against the window and fall asleep.

***

When we reach the small house, I'm quick to jump out of the car. I race up to the door and pound on it. A woman opens the door and looks at me with an annoyed but concerned look. "Yes?"

"It's Michael," I say and side step out of the way so that Dean and Sam can help Michael up the porch.

"Hey, Aunt Hannah," he says with a smile.

Hannah's eyes widen. "Oh my goodness! Quickly, now. Before anyone sees you." She moves out of the way, allowing all of us to enter. "Just set him down on the couch. No, not the white one! The dark one."

Once Michael is seated, Hannah goes into the kitchen and then comes back with a tray full of water glasses. "Now tell me. What happened?"

"Banshee," Dean says and Hannah's eyes go wide. "For some reason, one is after him."

Hannah shakes her head and looks at her nephew with annoyance. "Michael. What did I say about putting yourself in danger like this?"

Michael shrugs. "Danger kind of comes with the job title, Hannah."

Hannah shakes her head but laughs. "I'm guessing you're here because you need a gold weapon?"

Sam nods. "Do you have anything that we could use?"

Hannah thinks for a minutes. "I might have something... Let me go check my weapons closet really fast. I haven't had to deal with a banshee since I was in my twenties." She laughs and I catch Sam and Dean sharing a look. "I'll be right back." Hannah leaves and I look to the boys.

"Be nice," I say, glaring at them.

Dean puts his hands up in defense. "Hey, now." We laugh and Hannah soon comes back.

"Here," she says, handing Dean a golden knife. "It's old, but it's pure gold. It should help."

"How do we track it down?" I ask.

Sam shakes his head. "We can't. They're invisible. We have to wait until it comes back and strikes. And only then can the victim see her. Michael will have to be the one to kill it."

My eyes go wide and I stand up. "He's not in any condition to do that, though!"

Hannah grabs my hand and squeezes it. "He's right, though, sweetie. The victim is the only one who can see her. Michael has to be the one to do it."

"Em," Michael says and I turn to him. "I'll be fine. Don't worry. Just don't leave me alone while I rebuild up my strength."

I sigh and sit back down next to him. "Fine. But I still don't like it."

Hannah laughs. "You are all welcome to stay here. Just don't trash theplace. I know you Winchester's have a history of destroying every place youstay in." She glares at the boys and stands up. "I have to go to the store, butI'll be back later. Emma, don't let Michael leave your sight. Even when he'susing the bathroom I want you to sit outside and wait for him. Who knows whenthe wretched creature will show up again?"bilA�|����