ARKANSAS MUSEUM OF ANTHROPOLOGY

*3rd Person POV*

Sam and Dean walk in through the door, as Dean holds a map and a flashlight and Sam holds just a flashlight. Dean looks at the map. "This way." He said and they walk down the hallway. "I hate this plan, Dean." Sam mutters. "Yeah, I got that the first ten times I heard it." Dean remarked.

They turn a corner, walking side by side, and passed a motion sensor on the wall at mid-calf height. The light on the motion sensor turns red as they keep walking.

Sam undoes the lock on a glass exhibition case and carefully takes a decorated axe from the case. Dean was holding a hooked dagger from another case. Sam turns the axe around in his hands when he hears a noise and looks up. Dean looks back at Sam, who inclines his head and they put down the weapons and leave.

They leave the room and walk quickly towards the exit but when they turn a corner, they are met by two policemen. "Freeze!" One cop said and the boys turn back the other way, but two more policemen block their path. "Don’t move!" ordered the second officer said and they go down the last hallway open to them, but there is yet another pair of cops standing there.

"I said freeze!"

"Hold it right there!"

"Put your hands on you heads! Get down on your knees! Now!"

As the cops yell at them, Sam and Dean comply, kneeling down. Two of the cops walk closer and handcuff them. Dean smiles, slightly, and looks at Sam, who doesn’t look as pleased and heaves a worried sigh.

Later, Sam was standing in front of a mug shot board holding a sign that says:

81A3826
LITTLE ROCK
CITY POLICE
LITTLE ROCK AR.

He reaches about 6’5 on the board. "Front." The photographer said and the camera clicks. "To the right." He said and Sam goes to face his right, looking broody.

Sometime later, Dean, grinning from ear to ear, was standing where Sam was, holding a similar sign. He reaches just under 6’3. "I call this one the Blue Steel." Dean said and he purses his lips, arches his right eyebrow, and mugs for the camera. "Yeah, that’s right." The photographer said as he takes Dean's picture.

"To the right." He said and Dean faces the right and he takes his picture. "All right, back to the lineup." The photographer said. "Wait, who looks better, me or Nick Nolte?" Dean asked him, curiously. "Shut up." The photographer growled.

Later, in an interrogation room, Dean was sitting in a chair when a door opens and two men enter. One of them is Agent Henriksen. "Well, it’s about time. I’ll have a cheeseburger. Extra onions." Dean said. Henriksen smiles at the other cop and the other cop smirks "You think you’re funny." He said, questionable.

"I think I’m adorable." Dean replies and smiles widely. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Dean." Henriksen said. On hearing this, Dean's smile freezes. "I’m Special Agent Victor Henriksen. This is my partner, Special Agent Reidy." Henriksen said as Dean smiles, still, but has a look of worry.

"Henriksen? Not the Milwaukee agent Henriksen?" Dean asked and Henriksen smiles. "Live and in person." He said and Dean gives a short laugh. Henriksen pulls out a picture of Dean looking over his shoulder. "Oh, nice shot." He said as he tosses the picture onto the table. "You can hang that up in your cell at Super Max."

"All right, maybe we can just forget the cheeseburger, huh?" Dean said to him. "Oh, yeah. Keep that game face on. Try and cover how up cornered you are." Henriksen then he turns to to Reidy. "Read him the charges." He said. "Well, we got mail fraud, credit card fraud, grave desecration..." Reidy reads.

"Skip to the good ones." Henriksen said. "Armed robbery, kidnapping and, oh, three counts of first-degree murder." Reidy said. "And after Milwaukee, your brother is now a suspect in a murder case himself. And then there's (y/n)..." he said and Dean raises an eyebrow his way. "...oh yes, she's a suspect too...I'm surprised she wasn't with you two tonight. Maybe she actually has a brain." Henriksen said and Dean continues to smirk but his jaw clenches on anger.

"So...you wanna tell us where (y/n) is?" Henriksen asked Dean, who shrugs. "I don't know. She left us a few weeks ago. Could be anywhere." Dean said, feigning ignorance, and Henriksen stares at Dean and let's out a small snort of laughter. "Well, we'll find her. For now...I’d say for you and your brother, screwed to hell is a major understatement." Henriksen said.

"Well, where there’s life there’s hope, huh?" Dean jokes and Henriksen makes a noise of assent. "See? That’s what I kept thinking as I was searching for your asses all over hell and gone." He said and he leans forward on the table, speaking softly.

"Your dad taught you well. The way you cover your tracks and after Milwaukee the way you...." He whistles and moves his hand to the side, mimicking disappearing. "...vanished." he said and Dean laughs softly. "Near went nuts trying to find you. Ask him." Henriksen said as he nods towards Reidy.

"He near went nuts." Reidy said to Dean, deadpanned. "And after all of that, you get tripped up on a motion detector. Pretty rookie move. Gotta say I was…surprised." Henriksen said and Dean smiles again.

Suddenly, the door beside Dean opens. He looks over at it, as does Henriksen and Reidy and in walks a woman, wearing a suit. "Dean Winchester?" She asked. "In the flesh." Dean replied.

"And you are?" Henriksen asked. "Mara Daniels, Public Defender’s office." She said then and shakes hands with Dean. "I’ve been assigned you and your brother’s case." She said to Dean rhen looks over at Henriksen.

"Are you Henriksen?" She asked. "Yeah, and we’re not quite done here." Henriksen said, a bit in a rude tone. "Ah, yeah. You are. And if you don’t mind, I would like to meet with my clients. Privately." Mara said then Dean raises his eyebrows and smiles at Henriksen.

Later, Sam and Dean were sitting in the same interrogation room with Mara as she opens her suitcase. "Unfortunately your arraignment on the breaking and entering charge won’t be until Tuesday." She said. "And they’ll keep us in the county jail?" Dean asked her. "That’s right." She said.

"Green River County Detention Center?" Sam asked. "Yes. And considering the charges you’re facing, no judge in his right mind is going to grant you bail." She said and Sam scoffs. "Yeah, we figured that." Dean said. "Extradition papers have already been filed from five separate states, Missouri and Wisconsin being the biggest concern – the bank robbery and the murder raps." She informs.

"How long can we stall extradition?" Sam asked her. "A week. Maybe less." Mara replied, shrugging, and Dean nods while Sam raises his eyebrows at his brother.

The next day at the Detention Center, the prisoners get out of the rear of the bus, along with Sam and Dean as they hold the chains attached to their wrist and ankles. "All right, let’s go. Watch your step. Come on, keep moving." A guard yelled at them.

The prisoners walk past the front of the bus in a line and along the rec yard while Prisoners line up against the fence and catcall at the new convicts. One of them points at Sam. "You’re mine, baby!" He yells while Sam looks uncomfortable. "Don’t worry, Sam. I promise I won’t trade you for smokes." Dean said.

The new prisoners, flanked by two guards and each carrying blankets and a roll of toilet paper, walk down the hallway in a line. One of the guards unlocks a cell door and the first prisoner in line and Dean enter the cell. "I call top bunk!" Dean said. His roommate scoffs and places his things on the top bunk.

"Okay." Dean mutters as he turns and watches Sam walk into the cell across the hallway from his. Sam nods to his very large roommate, who stands slowly and glares at him. Sam’s eyes widen, swallows, and turns around. The cell doors close on him and Dean as they stare at each other.

Later, at a cell block hallway, the prisoners are lined up to be frisked by a guard, and scanned with a metal-detecting rod by another. Dean and Sam are well down the line. "My roommate doesn't say much – how's yours?" Dean asked in a low voice to Sam, who was standing behind him. "Just keeps staring at me...in a way that makes me...really uneasy." Sam replied.

"It sounds like you're making new friends." Dean jokes. "Dean. This is, without a doubt, the dumbest, craziest thing we've ever done. And that's in a long, storied career of dumb and crazy." Sam said. "Calm down. It's all part of the plan." Dean assures.

"Oh really? So Henriksen showing up was part of the plan?" Sam asked him. "Yeah, that guy moves a little faster than I thought. Look, all we gotta do is find this ghost, put the sucker down...then grab ourselves a couple of teardrop tattoos." Dean said. "That's not funny. Dean, what about this escape plan? It –" Sam started to say but Dean talks over him.

"It's 100 percent sure. I wouldn't have gone if it wasn't. I mean, come on, man, this place has all the signs of a haunting. Innocent people are dead. Four so far." Dean said and Sam laugs sarcastically. "Yeah, innocent."

"You from Texas all of a sudden? Just because these people are in jail, doesn't mean they deserve to die. If we don't stop this thing, people are going to continue to die. We do this job wherever it takes us." Dean said. "Look, Dean, just be straight with me, all right? You're doing this for Deacon." Sam said. "Damn right." Dean replied.

"Well, you barely even know the guy." Sam said. "We know he was in the Corps with Dad. We know he saved Dad's life and he's saved (father's name) a few times as well. (Y/n) said we can trust him and we know we owe him." Dean said.

"But don't you think he's asking a little much?" Sam asked. "It doesn't matter. We may not be saints, but we're loyal and we pay our debts. Now, that means something to me, and it ought to you. I'm not thrilled about this either, man, but Deacon asked us to hunt this thing down, and that's exactly what we're going to do." Dean said to him. 

"I hope (y/n) is okay." Sam mutters and Dean swallows. In all honesty, Dean was worried about her too, especially now the Henriksen was in town. But he had complete faith in (y/n) as she was pretty good and covering her tracks and making up disguise when she needed them. "I'm sure she is. She's smart and she knows what to do." Dean said and Sam nods.

At lunchtime, Sam was looking at spaghetti on his fork and sniffing at it disdainfull as he and Dean eat at a table. "You know, this chicken isn't half bad." Dean said. "Great." Sam grumbles as he puts down his fork and slides his plate towards Dean. "Finish mine. All right, so let's go back over this, Dean." Sam said as Dean stabs Sa.’s chicken with a fork and moves it to his own plate.

"Spirit suspect number one is Mark Moody, right?" Sam asked. "Yeah, psycho killer extraordinaire – Satanism, ritual murderer, died in jail." Dean said. "You sure it's him?" Sam asked. "Pretty sure." Dean said.

"Dean, considering our circumstances, I'm gonna need a little bit better than pretty sure." Sam said. "Really pretty sure. Moody died of a heart attack, which is what all the victims in here are dying of. He died in the old cell block, which they closed after he croaked, 30 years ago. They just opened that back up. That's when the killings started." Dean said.

"So you think his spirit was released somehow?" Sam asked. "Mm-hmm." Dean hums. "But what if he was already cremated?" Sam asked. "I'm guessing there's something in the old block that's keeping him around. And whatever it is, we got to find it. And, uh, you know the rest." Dean said as he puts down his fork.

"I'm done." He said and he gets up and walks away, Sam following. But then Sam bumps heavily into a tattooed prisoner. "Sorry. I –" Sam started to say but the prisoner interrupts him. "Watch where you're going." He growls.

"Yeah. Sure. I just –" Sam started to say until Dean walks over to the tattooed prisoner. "He said he was sorry." Dean said, roughly. "Dean..." Sam said, exasperated. "You talking to me?" The prisoner asked and Dean stares at him. "Are you talking to me?" The prisoner asked again and Dean rolls his eyes, slightly.

"Great, another guy who's seen Taxi Driver too many times." Dean mutters before he turns to the prisoner. "Yeah, I'm talking to you. Trust me. Let it go." Dean said to the prisoner then he walks away and Dean turns to Sam.

"Dean, come on." Sam said. "See, that's how you got to talk to these guys." Dean said then he winks. "Instant respect." He said while the Prisoner was talking to a very large prisoner, who is sitting at a table nearby. The Large Prisoner gets up.

"You were saying?" Sam said as he nods and Dean turns to see the large prisoner following the tattooed prisoner towards him as other prisoners look on. "Oh, great." Dean mutters as the tattooed prisoner throws a punch at Dean. But Dean catches him and holds him from behind.

"We can end this right now – no harm, no foul." He said but the tattooed prisoner breaks Dean’s hold. Dean grabs him again and slams him against a wall. The Tattooed prisoner steps on Dean’s foot. Dean steps back and kicks the prisoner in the groin and then sends him flying backwards to the ground with another kick.

"That's enough!" A warden yells as he and a guard walk up. "On your feet, Lucas." The warden ordered and the tattooed prisoner gets up. "Yes, sir, boss." He said and he gets up while the warden takes out his baton and holds it under Dean’s chin.

"What's your name?" He asked. "Winchester." Dean replied. "Well, Winchester...not a good start." The warden said then there was a long pause before the warden speaks. "Solitary. You too, Lucas." He said and the Guards grab Lucas and Dean. "Yes, sir." Lucas said while Dean looks over the shoulder of the guard holding him and escorting him out. "Are we having fun yet, huh?" He asked as he was escorted out.
The Large prisoner points at Sam, then makes a slicing motion across his neck and Sam sighs.

"I wish I had a baseball." Dean said as he sits in a cell, leaning agains a wall. Lucas looks through the small window-slit in the door of his cell, across the hallway from Dean’s cell. "What? What'd you say?" He asked. "I said, I wish I had a baseball." Dean said as he moves so he can look through his own window-slit.

"You know, like...Steve McQueen." He said. "Yeah? Well, I wish I had a bat -- so I could bash your frickin’ head in." Lucas growls. "Okay." Dean mutters as he goes back to leaning against the wall. "Well, so much for the bonding in solitary moment." Dean mutters.

Suddenly, the lights flicker and Dean’s breath becomes visible. "Oh, crap." He mutters and he looks through the cellroom slit and sees a clock in the hallway, which reads 8:30. The second hand is just past the 4 and is not moving. The lights begin to flicker with a static-y sound.

"Lucas, listen to me. Stay very still." Dean said as Lucas looks through his window-slit. There was a whooshing sound and two narrowed eyes look back at him, framed in the slit. Lucas gasps and backs up in alarm.

A hand grabs him from behind and turns his face around. Lucas grimaces, then screams, as dark veins pop out and spread across his face. Dean looks though his own narrow slit, though he can’t see what is happening in Lucas’s cell he can hear it.

Meanwhile, Sam and another Prisoner were mopping up the floors when Sam turns to him. "How you doing?" Sam asked. "I'm 54 years old, mopping the floor of a crapper with bars on the windows. How you think I'm doing?" The prisoner grumbles.

"All right. Bad icebreaker. I'm Sam." Sam introduced. "Randall." The prisoner said. "Nice to meet y– Randall. Hey, weren't you there the night that guard died?" Sam asked him. "Yeah." Randall replied.

"Well, what happened?" Sam asked him. "They say the stress of the job got him." Randall replied. "Yeah? What do you say?" Sam asked.

"Why are you inside, kid?" Randall asked him, suspiciously.  "'Cause I got an idiot for a brother." Sam said, laughing. "That'll do it." Randall said. "Yeah." Sam mutters.

"Well, this place ain't so bad. Compared to the old cellblock, this is the damn Hilton." Randall said. "You spent time in the old block?" Sam asked him. "Oh, yeah, I was a regular customer." Randall said.

"Didn't they have Mark Moody over there for a while?" asked Sam. "He was there. Yeah I was there, too, the night that lunatic bought it." Randall said. "Yeah? It was a heart attack, right?" Sam said. "Sure, his heart stopped right after the guard stopped using his head for batting practice. The next morning, I was in his cell, mopping up the blood. What a mess." replied Randall.

"Wait. So he – he was beaten and – and nobody reported it?" Sam asked. "You kept your mouth shut, unless you wanted to die from the same heart attack, you know?" Randall said. "Randall, exactly how much blood was there?" Sam asked, curiously.

Later, Dean was playing cards with a Prisoner at an outdoor table. "Call." Dean said. "Three aces." The prisoner said. "That's a bad beat. That is a bad beat..." Dean said and the prisoner picks up the cigarettes that are on the table between them. Sam was standing nearby watching the game.

"...but, see, I'm full...3s over aces." Dean said and the prisoner drops the cigarettes, slams his hand down on the table and stands up. "Ha ha ha, sorry. Hey, it's a cruel game, my friend." Dean laughs as he spreads his arms. The prisoner flings down his cards and walks off. "Sorry, guys." Dean said to them.

Sam then sits down across from Dean as Dean gathers the cigarettes he won. "It's like picking low hanging fruit." Dean said. "You don't even smoke." Sam said. "Are you kidding me? This is the currency of the realm." Dean said and Sam narrows his eyes and changes the subject.

"Look. I got a good lead on Moody." Sam said. "Me too. His spirit paid a little visit last night." Dean said. "What?" Sam asked, confused. "The clock stopped, the flickering lights, cold spot...I mean, he did everything but yell boo." Dean said.

"Well, what happened?" Sam asked. "He walked right by me. Lucas wasn't so lucky. I mean, the way he was screaming...The guy was a jerk, but he didn't deserve to go like that. What'd you find out on Moody?" Dean asked. "Yeah, so, I think I know where we might find his remains. Blood in his old cell." Sam replied.

"Blood? I thought it was a heart attack." Dean said. "It was, after the guards worked him over. I mean, apparently there was so much blood in there, they had trouble mopping it out." Sam said.

"How we gonna get in?" Dean asked. "I got a plan." Sam said and Dean smiles. "That's the Sammy I know. Come on, man, you're like Clint Eastwood from Escape From Alcatraz." Dean said. "The problem is, if even if we do find something, how are we gonna burn it? We don't have any accelerant." Sam said.
"It’s a good thing I'm like James Garner from The Great Escape." Dean said and he stands up and holds up two hands full of cigarettes. "Hey, fellas! Who's ready to deal?" Dean asked.

Back in the cafeteria, Sam and Dean were in line for food as they began to tall amongst each other. "You sure about this?" Dean asked Sam. "Pretty sure." Sam replied. "Yeah, well, considering our circumstances, I'd like a little better than pretty sure." Dean said. "Okay, really pretty sure." Sam assures then Dean looks at the man that was playing their food.

"I'd like mine al dente." Dean said and the server plonks spaghetti noodles and sauce on Dean’s tray. "Perfect." Dean said and he walks to a table at which the large prisoner is sitting. "Save room for dessert, Tiny. Heh heh heh." Dean said as he sits down across from Tiny.

"Hey, I wanted to ask you, 'cause I couldn't help but notice that you are two tons of fun. Just curious – is it like a thyroid problem, or is it some deep seated self-esteem issue?" Dean asked as Sam is on his feet nearby, watching. "'Cause, you know, they're, uh they're just doughnuts. They're not love." Dean said.

Tony smiles, then suddenly shoves his tray towards Dean and punches him in the face then Dean goes flying to the ground. The Warden walks around a corner near the two guards just as Dean gets up and hits Tiny three times, but his punches seem to have no impact. Tiny grabs the front of Dean’s prison jumpsuit and Dean headbutts Tiny. Dean steps back with a hand to his head.

A guard puts his baton around Tiny’s neck from behind. Tony picks up the guard and throws him down on the table. "Guys, give me a hand." The guard said and the warden and two guards hurry over as Tiny punches Dean again and grabs him from behind.

During the struggle, Sam slips into the kitchen and grabs a salt shaker then climbs into a vent. The guards finally succeed at pulling Tiny away from Dean, who falls to the floor. Another guard helps Dean up and the Warden grabs his face.

"If we'd waited any longer, you'd be dead." The warden tells him. "You waited long enough." Dean remarks and the warden shoves his baton into Dean’s stomach. Dean doubles over and the Warden grabs the back of his head. "Do yourself a favor. Don't. Talk." He warns then he looks to the guards. "Take them both up to the infirmary." He said.

Sam lowers himself down into a hallway in the old cellblock. He opens a cell door and lifts the cover on the bed, revealing a large bloodstain. He sprinkles salt and lighter fluid onto the bloodstain, lights a match and sets the bedding on fire.

Meanwhile, in the infirmary, Dean and Tiny are in adjacent cells with wire fence walls and a curtain between them. "Hey, Tiny." Dean calls out. "Yeah?" Tiny replied. "Hey, sorry about the things I was saying earlier. I can't really tell you why, but I had to get you angry. So, uh...Anyway, sorry." Dean said. "It's okay. Truth is, I have low self-esteem issues. My old man treated me and my brother like crap, right up till the day he died." Tiny said.

"How'd he die?" Dean asked. "My brother shot him." replied Tiny. "Okay." Dean mutters but then sees the ghost of a woman standing on the other side of a fenced-off area of the infirmary. The clock on the wall reads 8:45 and the second hand is at 12.

"Oh, crap." Dean said.

"What is it?" asked Tiny as Dean gets off his bed, looks around for something to use against the ghost and rattles the door of his cell. The ghost walks through the fence she was standing behind. The time on the clock hadn’t changed.

"What’s going on?" Tiny asked as Dean grabs a salt shaker from a tray at the end of his bed. The ghost comes closer and Dean is flung back against the wall then falls to the floor with a groan.

"What is it?" Tiny asked, concerned. The ghost stands over Dean as she puts a hand to his chest and he groans in pain. She breathes out, her breath is visible, when Dean flings salt at her and she disappears. He lies back, clutching his chest and groaning in pain.

"Oh! No! Noooo!" Tiny creams, inarticulately.

"Tiny!" Dean shouts and gets to his feet. There he could see Tiny’s shape through the curtain as he slides down the fenced wall of his cell. "Tiny!" Dean shouts and he slams the door of his cell and kicks it.

"Guard! Guard!" He shouts.