Hey guys! I'm sorry this last chapter took so long and I'm sorry it's not the best. I just moved into college and I've been completely overwhelmed the past few weeks. This has been bugging me so I decided to finally sit down and finish it. I'm looking for ideas for another multi-chapter crossover, so take a look at my fandoms and let me know if you have any! Thanks again for reading!

"Jules, you don't understand. It's like the nectar of the gods. It's addicting and enlightening and if there isn't some form of potent drug in here, I'll make Gus eat my socks. My filthiest, crustiest, sweatiest socks."

"Shawn!"

Sam glanced at Dean outside of room 212. His brother gave a little half-shrug as if to say, we've dealt with stranger people, and pushed the door open on patient Spencer, Shawn.

He was sitting up, the hospital johnnie hanging loosely from his shoulders, exposing the dark bruise decorating his chest. He had received two cracked ribs from his close encounter with Dean's shotgun and would have been fine to recover at home if the doctor had been 100% positive there were no internal injuries. Since he was not, Shawn was staying the night and evidently not too put out about it.

"Winchesters!" he exclaimed, his face lighting up as they entered the room. "Have you tried the hospital pudding? They use it to fill you with happy drugs so you don't mind when they harvest your organs."

"That's just a conspiracy theory, Shawn," sighed a voice. The boys turned to see a younger man who looked like Bud from the Cosby Show leaning up against the far wall, glaring toward his bed-ridden friend.

Juliet was sitting in the chair beside her boyfriend, holding a cup of possibly drug-induced dessert. She rolled her eyes at the Winchesters as they approached, but she was smiling. Sam hadn't seen the relaxed expression on her face before and he grinned in response.

"Sam, Dean, this is Burton Guster, also known as Gus," she said, gesturing with the spoon to each person as she named them. Sam exchanged a nod with Gus as Shawn let out a whine.

"Jules, you didn't let me introduce him! That's my job!"

"You are on very strong medication right now and you can barely form coherent sentences. I am trying my hardest to keep your mouth closed." That said, she stuck a spoonful of pudding into his mouth.

"How do you guys know Shawn?" Gus asked, sounding thoroughly confused. "No offence, but he doesn't exactly have a lot of friends outside of work."

"We know Juliet," Sam said. He was so used to creating backstories that he barely had to think. "Childhood friends. We were visiting her last night and we helped to get Shawn when he called her."

Gus nodded understandingly and glared at his doped friend. "Stupid idiot. He should know better than to climb latters and listen to Bohemian Rhapsody at the same time. No one can resist headbanging."

Sam wasn't exactly surprised to find that Shawn's friend was as eccentric as he was. He just gave the man a bemused smile.

"You know what heals all wounds?" Shawn asked suddenly, grinning at Sam. "Limes. Limes heal all wounds. Not lemons, though. Don't pour any lemon juice on those cuts. You'll… it… it'll hurt."

Gus snorted. "We should keep him on this medication all the time. He's smarter than ever."

"Smarter isn't a word, Gus," Shawn pouted.

They all gave each other a confused glance at that one. "Shawn, it's time to take a nap now," Juliet said, smoothing the hair back from his face. "Go to sleep."

He closed his eyes and Sam and Dean watched, mesmerized, as his breathing slowed down almost immediately. Juliet shrugged. "It works every time. It almost makes me wish we were keeping him on these meds."

Dean glanced at Gus, and then raised his eyebrows at Juliet. "We're gonna get back on the road, let you help Shawn out while he recovers."

"Oh!" She stood up, handing the plastic spoon and pudding cup over to Gus. "I'll be right back." She followed the Winchesters out to the hallway, closing the door softly behind them. Then Jules looked at Sam. "How are your arms?" she asked.

He let his hands skim over the bandages that were hidden beneath his long sleeves. It had been difficult to come up with a believable story of their origin that didn't involve self-harm. While that would have been plausible, it probably would have resulted in some sort of mandatory psychiatric evaluation. While the cuts had obviously not been made by an animal (Dean had insisted on a Doberman, for some reason), the hospital didn't call them out in the obvious lie. It helped that ER had been busy that night. The nurse had glanced at the cuts, raised her eyebrows, and poured some disinfectant on them. She was kinder than Dean would have been.

"They'll heal," he said shortly. He snuck a glance at his brother, who looked as though he were reading the health information sheets tacked to the corridor walls. Sam knew it was an act. Dean had been abnormally quiet the past few hours, and most likely would continue to be for the next few days. The last thing his brother needed was another helping of guilt to add to his already overflowing plate.

She nodded sympathetically. "I just can't thank you guys enough for everything. It was stupid of me to think I could handle hunting on my own after so long, and I just don't know what would have happened to Shawn and I if you hadn't been there."

"We would've been screwed without you, Jules." Dean leaned in for a hug and Juliet returned it enthusiastically. When they pulled away he raised an eyebrow at her again. "Bohemian Rhapsody? Really?"

"Oh, everyone will believe it, trust me," she grinned, standing on her tiptoes to give Sam a gentle hug. "One time he got shot while looking for the murderer of an ice cream truck and the wound got duct-taped with a Shammy. Then he had to jump from his kidnapper's truck to Detective Lassiter's car going 60 miles an hour down the highway." Her smile grew wider at the expression on their faces. "That's not even the worst story. No one will look into this too much. And the SBPD will investigate the hotel for a few months and then it'll get shifted to the back burner. Unfortunately there are always other killers to occupy our time."

Dean nodded. "And if it's our kind of killer, you have our number."

"My own personal Ghostbusters," Jules laughed. They gave her another brief hug, said their goodbyes, and waited until she had snuck into Shawn's hospital room again. They smiled as they heard him say, "Juliet! What light through yonder hospital doorway breaks! Gus won't give me any pudding!" Then they turned and walked down the brightly lit corridor, already thinking about their next destination.

They had already passed the California border and were speeding through Arizona when Dean let out a loud cuss word and slammed his hand on the steering wheel. Sam jumped; he had been completely lost in his thoughts. "Jesus Christ, Dean!" he shouted. "What the hell?"

They were in the middle of a desert; his older brother pulled over to the side in a whirlwind of dust and sand. He turned down the radio and looked at Sam with wide eyes.

"Remember when we talked with the coroner and he told us about the sulfur smell?"

"Dean, it was like a day ago."

"Remember when we thought he looked like someone we knew?"

"Dude, you're freaking me out. Just spit it out already. Who did he look like?"

Dean just shook his head. "This is just too crazy, but I swear they're identical. Think back a few years, during the pre-Apocalypse crap. Who was the one person in our lives you hated more than anyone else?"

"Dean, that guy was bald. He didn't look a thing like Lucifer."

"Not Lucifer."

Sam opened his mouth to tell his brother to just cool it with the grade-school guessing games and spill when it hit him. His jaw dropped open and immediately he understood why Dean had been so shocked. He let out a huge breath while Dean nodded at his revelation.

"Holy shit, it was Zachariah!"