MONKEY SUITS

ean is asleep on his stomach. As the door opens, Dean awakens and slips a hand under his pillow for a weapon. As he turns to look, he sees Sam entering, carrying coffee and pastries.

Elena is sleeping on Sam's bed. "Morning, sunshine." He says and taps on Elena's shoulder. She gets up.

"What time is it?" She asks.

"Uh, it's about five forty-five." Sam says.

Dean wipes at his eyes. "In the morning?" He asks.

"Yep." He replies and Elena throws a pillow over her head.

"Where does the day go?" Dean sits up. "Did you get any sleep last night?"

Sam gives Elena one of the coffees. "Yeah, I grabbed a couple hours." He replies.

"Liar. 'Cause I was up at three, and you were watching a George Foreman infomercial."

"Hey, what can I say? It's riveting TV." Sam says.

Elena sits up Indian style on the bed. "When was the last time you got a good night's sleep?" She asks.

"I don't know, a little while, I guess. It's not a big deal."

Dean finally makes the decision to get up. "Yeah, it is." He says.

"Look, I appreciate your concern-"

"Oh, I'm not concerned about you. It's your job to keep my ass alive, so I need you sharp." Dean says.

"Really." Elena says lamely and Sam shrugs.

"Seriously, are you still having nightmares about Jess?" Dean asks and Elena immediately looks up.

She knew Sam was having dreams about Jess. She had visions of Sam having dreams about Jess. She didn't know why, but she did. Sam crosses the room, sits on the other bed, and hands a coffee to Dean.

"Yeah. But it's not just her. It's everything. I just forgot, you know? This job. Man, it gets to you." He says.

"You can't let it. You can't bring it home like that." Dean says, gladly taking his coffee.

"So, what? All this it...never keeps you up at night?" Sam asks and Dean shakes his head. "Never? You're never afraid?"

Dean continues to shake his head. "No, not really." Sam reaches under Dean's pillow to pull out a large hunting knife and holds it up as evidence. Dean takes the knife back. "That's not fear. That is precaution."

"All right, whatever. I'm too tired to argue." Sam says.

Dean's phone rings. He answers it. "Hello?"

"Dean, it's, uh, it's Jerry Panowski. You and your dad helped me out a couple years back."

Dean recalled. "Oh, right, yeah. Up in Kittanning, Pennsylvania, the poltergeist thing. It's not back, is it?"

"No. No. Thank god, no. But it's something else, and...uh, I think it could be a lot worse." Jerry says.

"What is it?"

"Can we talk in person?" He asks as Dean and Sam exchange glances.

"Thanks for making the trip so quick. I ought to be doing you guys a favor, not the other way around. Dean and your dad really helped me out." Jerry says. Elena and the boy's find themselves in a small office at an airline center.

"Yeah, he told me. It was a poltergeist?" Sam asks.

A random guy walks by. "Poltergeist? Man, I loved that movie." He says.

"Hey, nobody's talking to you. Keep walking." Jerry says, then continues talking with them. "Damn right it was a poltergeist, practically tore our house apart. Tell you something, if it wasn't for you and your dad, I probably wouldn't be alive. Your dad said you were off at college. Is that right?"

Sam instantly looked uncomfortable. "Yeah, I was. I'm-taking some time off." He says.

"Well, he was real proud of you. I could tell. He talked about you all the time." Jerry says.

"He did?"

"Yeah, you bet he did." Jerry continues. "Oh, hey, you know I tried to get a hold of him, but I couldn't. How's he doing, anyway?"

"He's, um, wrapped up in a job right now." Dean says.

"Well, we're missing the old man, but we get Sam. Even trade, huh?" Jerry says.

Sam smirks and Dean laughs. "No, not by a long shot." He says.

"I got something I want you guys to hear. And, well, it sounded like it was up your alley." Jerry puts a CD in a drive. "Normally I wouldn't have access to this. It's the cockpit voice recorder for United Britannia flight 2485. It was one of ours."

The recording started to play. "Mayday! Mayday! Repeat! 2485-immediate instruction...may be experiencing some mechanical failure..." There is a loud whooshing sound as Elena leans in closer to listen.

"Took off from here, crashed about two hundred miles south. Now, they're saying mechanical failure. Cabin depressurized somehow. Nobody knows why." Jerry rambles.

"Over a hundred people on board. Only seven got out alive. Pilot was one. His name is Chuck Lambert. He's a good friend of mine. Chuck is, uh...well, he's pretty broken up about it. Like it was his fault." He continues.

"You don't think it was?" Elena asks.

"No, I don't."

"Jerry, we're gonna need passenger manifests, um, a list of survivors." Sam says.

Jerry nods in agreement. "All right." He says.

"And, uh, any way we can take a look at the wreckage?" Dean asks.

"The other stuff is no problem. But the wreckage...fellas, the NTSB has it locked down in an evidence warehouse. No way I've got that kind of clearance." Jerry replies.

Dean frowns. "No problem." He says.

ater, Sam is waiting by the car outside a Copy Jack. As Dean exits, an attractive woman enters. "Hey." She says and looks at him seductively.

"Hi." Dean replies and Elena rolls her eyes. When he turns to them, she's shaking her head.

"What?" He says defensively.

"You've been in there forever." Sam says.

Dean holds up three IDs. "You can't rush perfection." He says.

"Homeland Security?" Sam takes one of the IDs. "That's pretty illegal, even for us."

"Yeah, well, it's something new. You know? People haven't seen it a thousand times." Dean says. They get in the car. "All right, so, what do you got?"

"Well, there's definitely EVP on the cockpit voice recorder." Sam says.

Dean turns to his brother. "Yeah?" He asks.

"Listen." Sam says. He plays the tape, which has been edited to pull out a scratchy voice.

There's a person talking. "No survivors!" Sam stops the tape.

"'No survivors'? What's that supposed to mean? There were seven survivors." Dean points out.

"Got me." Sam says.

"So, what are you thinking? A haunted flight?" Dean asks.

"There's a long history of spirits and death omens on planes and ships, like phantom travelers."

"Mm-hmm."

"Or remember flight 401?" Sam recalls.

"Right. The one that crashed, the airline salvaged some of its parts, put it in other planes, then the spirit of the pilot and copilot haunted those flights." Elena pops in.

Sam looks at her, surprised and intrigued. "Right..." He drones.

"Yep." Dean says.

"Maybe we got a similar deal." Sam says.

"All right, so, survivors, which one do you want to talk to first?" Dean says.

Sam examines a paper. "Third on the list: Max Jaffey." He says.

"Why him?" Elena asks.

"Well, for one, he's from around here. And two, if anyone saw anything weird, he did." Sam replies.

"What makes you say that?" Dean asks.

"Well, I spoke to his mother." The Impala is parked in front of the gate to a building with a sign out front reading RIVERFRONT PSYCHIATRIC HOSPITAL. "And she told me where to find him." Sam continues.

ax is walking with a cane between Sam and Dean. Elena walks next to Dean. "I don't understand. I already spoke with Homeland Security." Max says.

"Right. Some new information has come up. So if you could just answer a couple questions..." Dean says.

"Just before the plane went down, did you notice anything...unusual?" Sam squints his eyes.

"Like what?" Max says.

Dean thought off the top of his head. "Strange lights, weird noises, maybe. Voices." He says.

"No, nothing." Max says.

"Mr. Joffey-" Dean starts, but gets interrupted by the man.

"Jaffey."

Dean clearly looks annoyed. "Jaffey. You checked yourself in here, right?" Max nods. "Can I ask why?"

"I was a little stressed. I survived a plane crash." Max says.

"Uh huh. And that's what terrified you? That's what you were afraid of?" Dean asks.

"I...I don't want to talk about this anymore."

"See, I think maybe you did see something up there. We need to know what." Dean says and steps closer to him.

Max begins to freak out. "No. No, I was...delusional. Seeing things." He says.

"He was seeing things." Dean repeats lamely to Elena.

Sam decides to take a calmer approach. "It's okay. Then just tell us what you thought you saw, please."

"There was...this-man. And, uh, he had these...eyes-these, uh...black eyes. And I saw him-or I thought I saw him..." Max says.

"What?" Elena asks.

"He opened the emergency exit. But that's...that's impossible, right? I mean, I looked it up. There's something like two tons of pressure on that door." Max confesses.

"Yeah. " Dean says.

"This man, uh, did he seem to appear and disappear rapidly? It would look something like a mirage?" Sam asks.

"What are you, nuts?" Sam tilts his head. "He was a passenger. He was sitting right in front of me."

he Impala pulls up in front of a house. "So here we are. George Phelps, seat 20C." Sam says.

"Hmm. Man, I don't care how strong you are." Dean says and Elena wonders what he meant by that. They all get out of the car. "Even yoked up on PCP or something, no way you can open up an emergency door during a flight."

"Not if you're human. But maybe this guy George was something else. Some kind of creature, maybe, in human form." Sam says.

Dean looks at the house. "Does that look like a creature's lair to you?" Sam turns to look at the perfectly ordinary house.

Dean and Sam sit across from Mrs. Phelps. Elena is looking at a framed photograph. "This is your late husband?" She asks.

"Yes, that was my George." Mrs Phelps replies.

"And you said he was a...dentist?" Dean asks.

"Mm-hm. He was headed to a convention in Denver. Do you know that he was petrified to fly? For him to go like that..." She goes on.

"How long were you married?"

"Thirteen years." She says and they looked shocked.

"In all that time, did you ever notice anything...strange about him, anything out of the ordinary?" Elena asks.

"Well...uh, he had acid reflux, if that's what you mean." She says and they all look at each other.

he gang come down the stairs and out front the motel. "I mean it goes without saying. It just doesn't make any sense." Sam says.

"A middle-aged dentist with an ulcer is not exactly evil personified. You know what we need to do is get inside that NTSB warehouse, check out the wreckage." Dean says.

"Okay. But if we're gonna go that route, we'd better look the part."

ean and Sam exit a store, "Mort's for style", wearing crisp black suits with white shirts. Elena went next door to a woman's shop and bought a shirt and pencil skirt. Sam adjusts his collar.

"What am I gonna say if they ask me who I am?" Elena asks.

Sam hums, thinking. "We'll think of something." He says.

"Man, I look like one of the Blues Brothers." Dean says.

Elena looks him up and down. "No, you don't. You look more like a...seventh-grader at his first dance." She says and Sam laughs.

Dean looks down at himself. "I hate this thing." He says.

"Hey. You want into that warehouse or not?" Sam says. Dean starts the Impala, Sam already sitting shotgun.

When they arrive, they enter the warehouse and show their badges to the Security Guard, who nods and lets them in. They walk among plane wreckage; Dean pulls out a device and puts earbuds in his ears.

"What is that?" Sam asks.

"It's an EMF meter. Reads electromagnetic frequencies." Dean replies.

Sam scoffs. "Yeah, I know what an EMF meter is, but why does that one look like a busted-up walkman?"

Elena looks at it and squints. "You know, now I see what you mean." She says.

"'Cause that's what I made it out of. It's homemade." Dean grins. "You couldn't even make this in two days." He aims at Elena.

"Yeah, I can see that." Sam says. Dean's grin disappears. Dean runs the EMF meter over a piece of the wreckage with yellow dust on it and gets an audible spike.

"Check out the emergency door handle." Dean scratches at the yellow dust and gets some on his hand. "What is this stuff?"

"One way to find out." Sam scrapes some of the yellow dust off into a bag.

Two Agents in black suits approach the security desk and show their badges. "Homeland Security? What, one team of you guys isn't enough?" The guard says.

"What are you talking about?"

"Two of your buddies and a woman went inside not five minutes ago." The second Agent looks at the first. The agents and several guards bust in, guns drawn, and search.

Sam and Dean hear them coming. The Agents and Guards see nothing. Sam, Dean and Elena peer around a corner and walk out casually. An alarm blares, and they run to the gated exit.

Pulling off his suit jacket, Dean throws it over the barbed wire at the top of the fence, and they climb over. He grabs the jacket.

"Well, these monkey suits do come in handy." Dean runs off. Sam and Elena follow.