Title: Existence-Challenged
Author: RhymePhile

Summary: Sam and Dean Winchester get called to the FBI offices to investigate the claim that a very familiar one-armed ghost walks the halls.

Notes: nuptse asked for "Sam and Dean trying exorcise Krycek's ghost" in a "I'm bored, prompt me" post.

"Try the salt!"

"I already tried the salt!"

"Try more!"

"How the hell is that supposed to help?" Sam yelled back, ejecting the shotgun shells. "'More' is not helpful, Dean!"

Dean started rifling through their gear bag, searching for something -- anything-- that could repel the ghost that stood menacingly before them.

"I've got nothin', Sammy."

"How about a warding spell? An amulet? Mojo bag? Anything?"

Sam then looked up at the phantom, who seemed to be...tapping his foot.

Dean dropped the holy water he was holding and frowned. "Sam, did that ghost..."

"Seriously, guys, I have places to be," the ghost said.

Dean walked over to his brother. "It's talking to you."

"I'm not an it, I'm a he, or was, whatever. The name's Alex."

Dean stepped behind the ghost to glance through the saucer-sized hole in the back of Alex's head. "Was is right."

"I don't get it. Why didn't the salt work?" Sam asked, putting the shotgun back in the duffel.

The ghost in the dark jacket sighed. "I'm not a vengeful spirit, or a residual haunting. I'm sort of, y'know, protective."

Sam made an appreciative face. "Never heard of it."

Alex waved his ghostly fingers. "It happens when you have a spirit that becomes so attached to someone that they refuse to leave until that person has crossed over."

"Like my lady outside," Dean grinned, referring to the Impala. "I'll be driving her forever."

"Yeah, no, genius. It's a personal thing."

"A love thing?" Sam asked.

"In a way."

At that moment Agent Fox Mulder came walking up the basement stairs and stopped short at the sight of Sam and Dean standing in the middle of the corridor. He squinted momentarily, eyeing their FBI badges, and then simply nodded a silent greeting before continuing on his way.

Dean blinked. "Dude, he's the..."

"It's a long story," Alex sighed.

"You've been...uh...existence-challenged for how long?" Sam wondered.

"Heh. 'Existence-challenged.' That's a good one," Dean muttered.

"Shut up," Alex growled. "Where did you get this guy?"

"He came with the car," Sam answered. "How long has it been?"

"A few years, I think. I'm always watching, and I never leave him...so, y'know, I need to be going."

"Yeah, okay."

"What?" Dean croaked. "Sam, we can't just leave a ghost wandering the halls of the FBI!"

"In this case, I don't think anything we have in our arsenal is going to do much good, Dean. If he's been here this long, nothing we do is going to change that."

Dean looked disappointed, but slung the duffel over his shoulder anyway. "If we're not gankin' him, then we better get the hell outta here before someone notices."

Sam nodded. "Alex, one last thing before we go..."

The ghost hovered silently, waiting.

"We had reports of moans and strange sounds coming from the basement, which is why we're here. You don't know anything about that, do you?"

Alex shrugged, then grinned. "I do get corporeal from time to time."

The End

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