The Haunting of Lockwood Estates | Nancy Drew x Supernatural Crossover 01

Chapter 19 - Sam

Freedom Motel

Blackridge, New Hampshire

Monday 10 March 2008

I follow Dean to our motel room, my hands full with fast food. Talking with Martin Brackton's family, friends, and co-workers has done nothing to answer any questions we had. Martin knew the vague legend of Lockwood Estates, didn't believe in said legend, and was sure that the dark forces there were demons--hence why he was willing to go there and help the caller "break free of the bond," as Father Thomas said. So basically, we are back at square one.

The sun is close to setting, and slick ice has begun to freeze over again. It's cold, but not as cold as it has been every time we've visited the Lockwood Estates. The place is such a cliche for hauntings.

Dean unlocks the door, and we step inside. He takes his bag from me and sits down at the table. I lock the door behind us and place my bag across from him and wait for him to take a bite from his cheeseburger. He's not going to like what I'm about to say, so I'm waiting until he's in the best mood possible. He slowly unwraps his bacon cheeseburger and takes a bite. I sit down.

"Dean," I say softly.

He looks up. "Yeah?"

"I think we should call Nancy."

He frowns and sets his burger down. Dammit. Looks like my tactic isn't working. His eyes stare into mine. "And why would we do that?"

"Because we're a little stuck," I admit.

"Stuck? What are you talking about?"

"We have no idea who this ghost is!" We haven't been able to find who Sherman's daughter is after hours of searching, and we have no lead on who the ghost might be. We've looked basically everywhere for clues, and we've hardly come up with anything.

He glares at me, angrily slurping his soda.

I sigh. "Nancy has solved every single case she's been on. I'm sure she's picked up some bit of information that we haven't found yet that would be worth looking into." I try to keep my tone light but firm. I need Dean to understand.

"No," Dean says picking his burger back up.

"C'mon, Dean. We'll just ask her a few questions," I plead. Seriously, why does he have to be so difficult?

"And let her win? I don't think so. We can do this by ourselves."

"Win? Dean, this isn't a competition. People are dying. It won't hurt to call Nancy." I glare at him. My patience is running thin.

Dean glares at me. "Let's at least finish questioning the victims' families first."

That can work. I'd rather call Nancy now, but based on past experience, I know better than to press my luck. "Fine," I concede.

Suddenly, Dean's phone rings. We share a quizzical look before he answers.

"Hello?" he says. "Who is this?" He pauses as the person answers. "Nancy?" The disbelief in his voice makes me smile. It's sort of eerie how she managed to get Dean's number, but it's worth it for the shock on Dean's face right now. "How the fuck did you get my number?" He rolls his eyes at whatever her response is. "Nancy, it's best if you just stay out of--"

I snatch the phone from him.

"What the hell, Sam!" he exclaims.

I ignore him, and put the phone to my ear. I'm not going to let him ruin our chance of getting her help. "Nancy?"

"Sam?"

"Sorry about Dean," I apologize. "What did you want to tell us?"

She sucks in a breath as if her next words are going to be difficult to say. "I need your help."