Capri Coleman was a normal girl, getting ready to graduate college when her life fell apart. Her close friend died in a mysterious fire, she learns that her family's death from years ago might not be what she always thought, and she is thrown into t...
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"It's gonna take me about a day's drive to get there," John told Meg over the phone. "That's impossible. I can't get there in time. And I can't just carry a gun on a plane."
A few minutes passed and he hung up, then explaining what she wanted. She was killing John's friends and would keep doing that if he didn't take her the Colt.
"You think Meg is a demon?" Sam asked.
"That, or she's possessed by one," John stated. "Doesn't really matter."
"What do we do?" Dean asked.
"I'm going to Lincoln."
"What?"
"Doesn't seem like I have a choice," John continued. "If I don't go, a lot of people die. Our friends die."
"You people have friends?" I asked, earning a sharp look from John.
"Dad, the demon is coming tonight," Sam stated. "That gun is all we got. You can't just hand it over."
"Who said anything about handing it over?" John asked. "Look, besides us and a couple vampires, no one knows what it looks like."
"So, what, you're just gonna pick up a ringer at a pawn shop?" Dean asked. "You're gonna hand Meg a fake gun and hope she doesn't notice?"
"She shouldn't be able to tell," John stated.
"But for how long? What happens when she finds out?" Dean asked.
"I just need to buy a few hours, that's all."
"You mean for Dean and me," Sam realized. "You want us to stay here. And kill this demon by ourselves."
"No, Sam, I want to stop losing people we love," John stated. "I want you to go to school. I-I want Dean to have a home." He turned his back to us. "I want Mary alive. I just want this to be over."
"Hey, can we talk?" I grabbed Dean's arm. "Just for a minute."
"Is something wrong?" Dean asked.
"In private," I asked quietly.
"Hold on." Dean looked between John and Sam, tugging me toward the bathroom and shutting the door behind us. "What?"
"I can make whatever gun you buy look like the Colt. It's a simple spell. I can—"
Dean shook his head. "The last time you did a spell, you almost died."
"Because I wasn't ready for a spell like that. This spell a toddler could do. I want to help, Dean," I told him.
"But you didn't want to tell my dad about being a witch," he pointed out.
"If it has to be done, it has to be done. I want you help you kill this demon." I sighed. "Please."
