I got a year to live, Sam. I'd like to make the most of it.
What do you say we kill some evil sons of bitches and we raise a little hell?
I know how you feel, Dean. Dad's dead.
And he left a hole, and it hurts so bad, you can't take it.
I'm okay, okay? The next person who asks if I'm okay...
I'm gonna start throwing punches.
- There's no way to save me from the pit? - No.
You're gonna die. This is what you're gonna become.
- I don't wanna go to hell. - We'll find a way to save you.
Let Dean out of his deal right now.
I'm just a saleswoman. I got a boss like everybody.
- Who holds the contract? - I can't tell you.
- Tell me what? - There's a big, new up-and-comer.
- Her name is Lilith. - Lilith?
And she really, really wants Sam's intestines on a stick.
You knew about this?
Well, jeez, Sam, is there anything else I should know?
Hello? Ben.
Linda. I had to talk to you.
You can't keep calling here. I know, I know.
Just... Just tell me you thought about it, please.
There's nothing to think about.
Don't say that.
I can't.
You know I can't. My wife.
I'm begging you. Come to me.
Come to me, Ben.
No.
Linda, please.
Please, just leave me alone.
I'm not gonna stop. I miss you, Ben.
We could be happy. We could be happy together.
This is... This is crazy.
I love you. Forever.
Don't you love me?
You know I do.
More than anything.
But...
I'm sorry.
Ben, wait...
Okay, Linda.
You win.
I'm coming.
Yep. I got it. Okay, bye.
So?
So the professor doesn't know crap.
Shocking. Pack your panties, Sammy.
- We're hitting the road. - What's up?
That was Bobby. Some banker guy blew his head off in Ohio...
and he thinks there's a spirit involved.
So you two were talking a case?
No, we were, uh, we were talking about our feelings.
And then our favorite boy bands. Yeah, we were talking a case.
- So a spirit...? What? - A banker was complaining...
about some electrical problems at his pad for like a week.
Phones going haywire. Computers flipping on and off. Eh?
- Uh-huh. - This is not ringing your bell?
Well, sure, yeah. But, Dean, we're on a case.
- Whose? - Yours.
Right, yeah. Well, could have fooled me.
What else have we been doing lately...
other than trying to break your deal? Chasing our tails, that's what.
Sam, we've talked to every professor, witch, soothsayer...
and two-bit carny act in the lower 48. Nobody knows squat.
And we can't find Bela. We can't find the Colt.
So until we actually find something, I'd like to do my job.
- There's one thing we haven't tried. - No, Sam...
- We should summon Ruby. - I'm not gonna fight...
- She says she knows how to save you. - Well, she can't.
- Oh, you know for sure? - I do.
- How? - Because she told me, okay?
- What? - She told me...
flat out...
that she could not save me. Nobody can.
And you just neglected to mention this to me?
I really don't care what that bitch thinks and neither should you.
Now you're keeping secrets from me?
You really wanna talk about who's keeping secrets from who?
- Now where you going? - Guess I'm going to Ohio.
I found him there.
Why don't you just tell us everything you saw, Mrs. Waters?
You mean besides my dead husband?
Just everything else you saw, please.
There was blood everywhere.
The phone was ripped from the wall, his favorite Scotch on the desk.
What else could you wanna know?
Why was the phone ripped from the wall?
- I don't know. - You mind if I take a look?
I already went over all this with the other detectives.
We'll be out of your hair in no time, ma'am.
Ma'am, what time did your husband die?
Sometime after 11.
What about strange phone calls?
Receive any of those lately? Weird interference, static, anything like that?
No.
Mrs. Waters, withholding information from the police is a capital offense.
In some parts of the world, I'm sure.
A couple of weeks ago, uh, there was this...
This what?
I woke up one morning.
I heard Ben in his study. I thought he was talking to a woman.
- What made you think that? - Because he kept calling her Linda.
The thing is...
I picked up the other line and nobody was there.
Ben was talking to nobody.
There was nothing? Just static.
You ever speak to Ben about this?
- No. I should've, but no. - Did he ever say who Linda was?
What difference does it make? There was no one on the other end.
Linda's a babe. Or was.
- Find her? - Yeah, Linda Bateman.
She and, uh, Ben Waters were high-school sweethearts.
- What happened? - Drunk driver hit them head on.
Ben walked away.
So, what then? Dead flame calls to chat?
You would think.
But Linda was cremated.
So why is she still floating around?
- Uh, you got me. - What about that, uh, caller ID?
Turns out it's a phone number.
No phone number I've ever seen.
Yeah, because it's about a century old, from back when phones had cranks.
So why use that number to reach out?
Got me there too, but either way, we should run a trace on it.
How are we gonna trace a number over 100 years old?
We don't get too many folks from HQ down here.
Yes, well, the main office mentioned that there would be a lunch.
I'm sure we can arrange something.
The man you gentlemen wanna be speaking to is right this...
I know. Sorry.
Uh, got something of a hygiene issue down here, if you ask me.
Stewie?
Ah, uh, uh... What did I tell you...
about keeping this place clean? Spam mail. Spam mail.
Stewie Meyers.
- Mr. Campbell, Mr. Raimi. - I don't know how all this got here.
From headquarters.
Oh.
- Give the gentlemen whatever they need. - Yeah.
Thank you. Thanks.
So can I help you?
Is that, uh, BustyAsianBeauties. Com? No.
Ooh, me so horny.
Maybe. Word to the wise.
Platinum membership. Worth every penny. Huh?
Right, anyway. Um, we're here to trace a number.
- Where did you get this? - Off caller ID.
- Oh, no. That's impossible. - Hasn't been used in years, we know.
A few years? It's prehistoric. Trust me, nobody's using this number anymore.
Sure. Could you run it anyway? Sure.
Why don't I just rearrange my whole life first?
Listen, uh, Stewie.
You got, like, six kinds of employee-code violations down here...
not to mention the sickening porn clogging up your hard drive.
When my partner says run the number, I suggest you run the number.
Okay. Whatever. Jeez.
- Holy crap. - What?
I can't tell you where the number comes from.
But I can tell you where it's been going.
What do you mean?
Ten different houses in the past two weeks...
all got calls from the same number.
So are we done here?
Because I was sort of busy.
Right.
Yeah?
Hello, sir. I'm with the phone company.
- We didn't, uh, call the phone company. - Oh, no, sir.
No, we're calling you. We've had a lot of complaints from the neighborhood.
- Complaints? - Yes, sir.
Um, dropped calls, static.
Maybe even strange voices on the other end of the line.
No, we haven't had any of that here.
- Nothing? - No.
Okay, uh, great. Just thought we'd check.
- Thanks. - No problem.
Okay, let's go. Come on, Simon.
No way you work for the phone company.
- Sure I do. - Since when does a phone guy...
drive a rental or wear a cheap suit?
Yeah? Well, maybe we're both keeping secrets.
Why'd you ask my dad if we heard strange voices?
- Why, did you hear something? - No.
- My mistake. Thought maybe you did. - Well, I didn't, okay?
Okay. Sorry to bother you.
Because, you know...
if you did, then I would have told you...
that I've been right where you're standing right now.
Hearing things, even seeing things that couldn't be explained.
Maybe I would have been able to help out a little bit.
Anyways...
Hey, wait.
Maybe...
Maybe I've been talking on the phone, with...
With my mom.
Well, that's not so strange.
She's dead. Like, three years now dead.
How often does she call you?
A few times.
It started a week ago.
I thought I was, like, crazy or something.
Well, I can tell you one thing for sure.
And you're gonna have to go with me on this, okay?
You're not crazy.
- Yeah. - Stiffs are calling people all over town.
- Tell me about it. - I just talked to a grandmother...
who's having phone sex with her husband...
- who died in Korea. - Ew.
Completely rocked my understanding of necrophilia.
So, what the hell's going on here, Dean?
Beats me, but we better find out soon. This place is turning into spook central.
- Yeah. All right, I'll call you later. - Yeah.
Yeah, what?
Sam? Dean.
Dean, is that you?
Dad?
I mean, Dad?
You really think it was Dad?
I don't know. Maybe.
Well, what did he sound like?
Like Oprah. It was Dad, he sounded like Dad, what do you think?
What did he say?
My name.
That's it?
Yeah, the call dropped out.
Why would he even call in the first place?
I don't know, man. Why are ghosts calling anybody in this town?
But other people are hearing from their loved ones.
Why can't we? It's at least a possibility, right?
Yeah, I guess.
Okay, so what if...?
What if it really is Dad?
What happens if he calls back?
What do you mean?
What do I say?
- Hello. - Hello?
That's what you come back with? Hello?
Uh...
Hello?
Find anything?
After three hours, I have found no reason...
why anything supernatural would be going on here.
Wow, you'd think a Stanford education...
and a high-school hookup rate of 0.0 would produce better results than that.
Hilarious.
Sam, you're just looking in the wrong places, pal.
And what are the right places, Dean?
The motel pamphlet rack.
Milan, Ohio. Birthplace of Thomas Edison.
Yeah, right. So what?
Keep reading.
You're kidding.
And we're walking.
And here we have one of the museum's most unique and treasured possessions:
Thomas Edison's "spirit phone."
Did you know that Mr. Edison...
while being one of America's most beloved inventors...
was also a devout "occultist"? Ooh!
What's with the quote-y fingers?
He spent years working on this, his final invention...
which he was convinced could be used to "communicate" with the "dead."
Pretty spooky, huh?
And we're walking. We are walking. We're walking.
And we're not touching that.
And we're walking. And stop.
Anything?
Nothing.
What do you think?
Honestly, it kind of looks like an old pile of junk to me.
- It's not even plugged in. - Maybe it didn't work like that.
Okay.
Maybe it's like a radio tower, you know? Broadcasting the dead all over town.
- Could be. - The caller ID is 100 years old, right?
- Around the time this thing was built. - But why would it start working now?
I don't know.
But as long as the moldy are calling the freshes, it's the best reason we got.
Yeah, maybe.
So maybe it really is Dad.
Dad? Dean.
Is it really you?
It's me.
How can I be sure? You can't.
- Dean, how could you do it? - Do what?
Sell your soul.
I was looking after Sam, like you said to. I never wanted this, never.
You're my boy. I love you.
- I can't watch you go to hell, Dean. - I'm sorry.
I don't know how to stop it.
Because if you break the deal, Sam dies, right?
What? Well, I know a way out.
- For both of you. - How?
The demon who holds your contract.
He's here. Now.
What's up?
Girl, Lanie, her mom's ghost spooked her out pretty bad last night.
- That sucks. - Yeah, it does.
- What are you doing? - I think Dad's right.
I think the demon is here.
Check it out.
- What is this, weather reports? - Omens. Demonic omens.
Electrical storms everywhere we've been for the past two weeks.
I don't remember any lightning storms.
I don't remember you studying meteorology as a kid, either.
But I'm telling you, that bastard's been tailing me...
wearing some poor dude's meat.
And it's following you because...?
I guess I'm big game, you know? My ass is too sweet to let out of sight.
Okay, sure.
Don't get too excited, Sammy. Might pull something.
- Dean, I wanna believe this. I really do... - Then believe it.
- If we get this sucker, it's Miller Time. - Yeah, that's another thing.
Dad rattles off an exorcism that can kill a demon.
- Not just send it back to hell, but kill it? - I've checked it out.
This is heavy-duty Dark Ages.
Fifteenth century.
Yeah, I checked on it too, Dean. And so did Bobby.
Okay. And?
Look, it definitely is an exorcism, okay?
There's just no evidence that it can kill a demon.
- No evidence it can't. - Oh, Dean, come on...
Hey, as far as I know, the only one of us that's actually been to hell is Dad.
Maybe he picked up a couple of tricks there, like which exorcisms work.
Maybe it does, okay?
- I hope it does too, but we gotta be sure. - Why aren't we sure?
Because I don't know what's going on around here, Dean.
I mean, some guy blows his brains out, a little girl is scared out of her wits.
Wow, man, a couple of civvies are freaked out by some ghosts.
News flash, Sam, people are supposed to be freaked out by ghosts.
- Dad tell you where to find the demon? - I'm waiting on the call.
I told Lanie I'd stop by.
Oh, good, yeah.
No, you go hang out with jailbait. Just, uh, watch out for Chris Hansen.
Meanwhile, I'll be here, you know, getting ready to save my life.
You are unbelievable, you know that?
I mean, for months we've been trying to break this demon deal.
Dad's about to give us the address...
and you can't accept it? He's dead and you're still butting heads.
- That's not what it's about. - Then what?
The fact is, we got no hard proof here, Dean.
After everything, you're still just going on blind faith.
Yeah, well, maybe. You know, maybe that's all I got, okay?
Please.
Just please don't go anywhere until I get back, okay, Dean?
Please.
Have you told your father about any of this?
And bother him at work?
No.
He wouldn't believe me. He'd just chuck me into therapy.
So, what did your mother say?
That she wanted to see me.
So at first I thought I was supposed to go to the cemetery.
- Did you? - Nothing happened.
But then she started asking me to do other things.
What sort of things?
Bad things.
Hello? Simon Greenfield speaking.
Hi, Mommy.
Yeah, I wanna see you. Where are you?
Dad? Dean.
Where's the demon?
Lanie, please.
Tell me what happened. It's very important.
Mom told me to go to Dad's medicine cabinet.
And?
Take his sleeping pills. Take all his sleeping pills.
She wanted you to kill yourself?
Why would my mom want me to do that?
I don't know.
I mean, just so I could come to her?
What'd you say?
She wanted me to come to her.
No, no, no. How did she say it exactly?
"Come to me." Like, a million times.
Lanie.
That's not your mother.
Listen to me. Don't answer the phone. Don't use the computer.
Don't do anything unless I say to, all right?
Lanie.
Where's Simon?
Hello?
Dean, it's not Dad.
- What is it? - A crocotta.
That a sandwich? Scavenger. Mimics loved ones.
Whispers, "Come to me."
Then lures you into the dark and swallows your soul.
Crocotta, right. That makes sense.
I'm sorry, man. Don't these things live in filth?
Yeah. The flies at the phone company.
It's Herman Munster. Leave a message.
Dean, I'm in the parking lot. He's here. Hurry.
Whoa, what the hell?
- I know what you are. - Wait, mister.
- And I know how to kill you. - Please. Okay, wait, wait.
If we're overcharging you for the call waiting or something...
I can fix that, I'm your friend.
Please. Just... Just don't kill me.
Don't kill me, please.
Yeah, ha, ha.
That's what happens when you mess with the phone company, dillweed.
Thank you, Clark.
Forget about it.
Clark?
L... I'm sorry, Clark. I'm sorry for whatever I did to you.
I'm sorry. Please... Wait.
Wait. Don't do it.
You're awake.
You're not a killer, Clark. No.
There's a good man inside of you. I know it.
What do you think, Sammy?
Am I a good man?
Just let him go.
I would. I really would.
If only I'd had more than a salad for lunch.
You see?
I'm starving.
No!
My last call with Dean...
that was you.
You led me here.
Some calls I make, some calls I take.
But you have to admit, I had you fooled for a while.
All that Edison phone crap.
Oh, well.
What are you doing?
I'm killing your brother.
Or maybe I'm killing another guy.
We'll just have to see how it goes.
Hello? Hi, Daddy.
Hey, baby.
I thought you said you weren't gonna call anymore.
I know, Daddy.
You know how sad this makes your old man.
How upset I was at your funeral.
I had to call. I know who killed me, Daddy.
What?
The man who killed me. He's at the house right now.
What? What are you saying to me?
He's at the house, Daddy. He wants to kill you too.
You know, mimicking Dean's one thing.
But my dad, that's a hell of a trick.
Well, once I made you two as hunters, it was easy.
Found Dean's number...
then your number, then your father's numbers.
Then to e-mails, voice mails.
Everything.
You see, people think that that stuff just gets erased.
But it doesn't.
You'd be surprised at how much of yourself is just floating out there...
waiting to be plucked.
Dean's not gonna fall for this.
He's not gonna kill that guy.
Then the guy kills him.
Technology.
Makes life so much easier.
Used to be I'd hide in the woods for days, weeks...
whispering to people.
Trying to draw them out into the night.
But they had community.
They all looked out after each other.
I'd be lucky to eat maybe one, two souls a year.
But now when I'm hungry, I simply make a phone call.
You're all so connected.
But you've never been so alone.
- What is this? - Your funeral.
You do this to my daughter too?
- How the hell did you get out? - You do this to my daughter too?
- Wait. This is a mistake. - You killed her.
- No. Wait. - You killed her, you son of a bitch.
She was 9 years old!
Stop. I didn't.
You gotta believe me.
Why did you kill her?
I'm sorry.
I didn't kill your daughter.
Then what are you doing here?
I don't know.
I see they improved your face.
Yeah, right back at you.
So crocotta, huh?
Yep.
That would explain the flies.
Yeah, it would.
Hey, um...
Look, I'm sorry it wasn't Dad.
No, I gave you a hell of a time on this one.
- Ahh. - No, you were right.
Forget about it.
I can't.
I wanted to believe so badly that there was a way out of this.
I mean, I'm staring down the barrel at this thing.
You know, hell.
For real, forever. And I'm just...
Yeah.
I'm scared, Sam.
I'm really scared.
I know.
I guess I was willing to believe anything.
You know, last act of a desperate man.
- There's nothing wrong with having hope. - No. Hope doesn't get you jack squat.
I can't expect Dad to show up with some miracle at the last minute.
I can't expect anybody to, you know?
And the only person that can get me out of this thing is me.
And me.
- "And me"? - What?
Deep revelation, having a real moment, that's what you come back with?
"And me"?
- Do you want a poem? - Moment's gone.
Unbelievable.