When she arrived in New Orleans, she drove to the hotel where Sam was staying. It was strange for her to see the familiar surroundings again. Nothing had changed since she left, and shaking her head, she looked out from the balcony at the hustle and bustle of the street below. On every corner there were voodoo stores or other small stores where one could buy all kinds of supernatural things. She had never noticed that, rather she had not believed in the supernatural at all. She had never thought that demons could actually be summoned from herbs and animal bones. And when she thought about it that way, the little vials that supposedly contained the blood of virgins were probably real after all.
"Josie?", Dean interrupted her thoughts, standing at the doorstep, "You okay?"
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Hastily, she nodded and wordlessly slipped past him into Sam's hotel room.
"Alright, the widow told me that, much like Andy, her husband had been seeing a guy named Jackson more than once. But she only met this guy once herself. Her husband said he met him at a bar and they immediately had things in common," the younger Winchester reported.
"Did Andy talk about Jackson?" inquired Dean, turning to Josie.
"No not much, he just talked about how Jackson was also a New Orleans Saints fan and they went to the stadium together. I don't know much more about him either. He just happened to run into us once while we were shopping. But it seemed like he was uncomfortable getting to know me"
"That's the same thing the victim's wife told me," Sam gave thoughtfully, flipping through the notes he had made.
"A monster who has a problem with women, that's a new one," Dean joked, earning an admonishing look from both of them.
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He looked down at the floor and said nothing more. Josie, meanwhile, reached for the crime scene photos. She saw in her mind's eye the images of Andy, it was exactly the same pattern. When Dean comfortingly put his hand on her shoulder, she flinched noticeably. The whole thing was beginning to get the better of her, so she only welcomed the hunter gently pulling her into his arms. Being there for her distracted him from his own grief, and having a meaningful task seemed like therapy for him.
