Saints or Sinners | {BOOK 3}

52| Henry and Not-Josie

The next morning, Sam checked out before us and came to hang out in our room while we got ready to leave. He sat at the table while Dean was finishing tying his boot laces and I made sure I had everything in my bag. Suddenly, a bright light shined from the closet and a man dressed in a suit with his dark hair combed neatly and gelled in place fell out of it.

"Which of you is John Winchester?" the man asked, looking from Sam to Dean and back.

Nobody answered him, all of us just staring incredulously.

"Please, time is of the essence!" he cried. "Which of you is John Winchester?"

"Uh, neither," Sam finally spoke.

"That's impossible," the man muttered to himself, starting to pace. "That's absolutely... what did I do wrong?"

"Who the hell are you, mister?" Dean demanded.

"Not now. I'm thinking."

I grimaced at the man's mistake as Dean grabbed him and pushed him against the wall, pinning him with an arm across his chest.

"Please," the man said. "I can assure you there's no need for violence. One of you must know John Winchester."

"I'll tell you what," I piped up, "when one of us falls out of your closet, then you can ask the questions."

"Yes, my apologies. Is it absolutely necessary, sir, that you keep your hands on me?"

Dean backed up to stand next to me and the man straightened out his suit coat.

"Thank you," he nodded. "Gentlemen, ma'am, in the absence of any and all other explanations, I'm afraid this has been a marvelous, tragic misunderstanding. I'll be on my way."

"That's not happening," Sam informed him.

"There are things of grave importance. I do not have time to deal with the likes of you."

I took a pair of handcuffs from the bag I'd been packing on the table and tossed them to Dean as Sam grabbed the man. Dean walked over, grabbing one of the man's wrists.

"You're not going anywhere, 007, till we get some answers."

I watched as Dean tried to cuff the mystery man to a chair, but in one motion he had broken away and handcuffed both Sam and Dean to the chair instead. I lunged to stop him, but he easily ducked around me, tearing out the door.

"How did he do that? You got to be kidding me!" Dean groaned.

I grabbed the key to the cuffs from the bag and tossed them over to Dean, who caught it with his free hand. While he and Sam worked on freeing themselves, I took off outside to see if I could catch up to mystery man. I looked around, spying him walk around to the driver's side of the Impala and then use his elbow to break the window. Dean was going to be pissed about that.

I hurried toward him, hearing Sam and Dean's heavy footsteps behind me as the man was climbing behind the wheel of the Impala. Dean got ahead of me, cocking a gun he'd brought out and sticking it through the window in the man's face.

"Nice taste in wheels," he growled.

Sam opened the passenger door while I stood at Dean's shoulder.

"Yours, I presume?" the man looked up at Dean.

We dragged him back to the room and started doing tests on him, finishing with splashing him with holy water.

"And there with the holy water," he sighed, wiping his face off.

"He's clean," Sam said, turning to look at Dean and I.

"I could have told you that," the man replied, pulling his sleeve down over the cut we'd made on his arm.

"Yeah, you can start by telling us everything before I beat it out of you," Dean growled.

I shot him a look, which he pointedly ignored. I knew he would be pissed about the man breaking the Impala, but threatening him wasn't going to get us anywhere.

"I'm quite certain this is all beyond your understanding, my alpha-male-monkey friend," the man said and I snorted. "And violence will not help you comprehend this any easier."

Before I could stop him, Dean had pointed his gun in the man's face, grabbing the front of his suit coat.

"Let me tell you what I understand! Some asshat pops out of my closet asking about my dad, smashed up my ride. So why am I not getting violent, again?"

"Dean," I said as the man spoke over me.

"John Winchester is your father?"

Before any of us could respond, there was a rattling noise.

"What is that?" the man asked, then noticed the closet door shaking. "Oh my God."

"What?" I asked.

"Run!" the man yelled.

Just then, the closet door burst open with another flash of light and a woman stepped out. She was wearing an old fashioned pale blue evening gown that was covered in what looked like blood and her red hair was curled and pulled up in a 50s style updo.

"Henry," she laughed. "Silly man, you forgot to lock the door. But then spells were never your best subject, were they? Why don't you be a doll and give me what I want? And I promise to kill you and your friends here quickly."

"You know I can't do that," the man, Henry, replied.

"You're not a fighter, Henry."

Dean raised his gun, pointing it at the woman. She lifted her arm sending me, Sam and Dean flying into the walls. As Henry tried to move, she held up a hand to stop him.

"Josie," Henry panted. "I know you're still in there. You must fight this."

"I'm afraid Josie's indisposed, pet," not-Josie crooned. "It looks like it's just you and me."

I stabbed the demon in the back with Ruby's knife. She screamed and fell to her knees with gold flashing inside her body.

"Ooh! Aah!"

My eyes widened as the gold stopped flashing, but she remained alive.

"Well, that is no way to treat a lady," she said.

Dean grabbed my hand, dragging me with him as we ran out of the room with Sam and Henry. He and I got into the front seat of the Impala while Sam and Henry both jumped into the back.

"Go, go, go, go, go, go!" Sam yelled.

Dean backed out of the spot while Sam was still closing the door and started driving away towards an oncoming car, tires squealing. A man from the motel office noticed the almost-crash and ran out, yelling after us as we took off.