𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧

Chapter 136-Playthings

January 6th - January 9th, 2007

It had been about a month since Ava went missing. In addition to that, we had not stopped looking for Ava. Sam was convinced that something terrible happened to her and that she needed our help. We had been staying at the same motel for almost the whole month. Sam had plastered the place with any information on Ava. It was basically a giant road map leading to nowhere "yeah." (...) "okay." (...) "thanks, Ellen." Sam said as he hung up his phone "what'd she have to say?" Dean asked after he closed the door with drinks in his hands.

"Oh, she's got nothing. Me, I've been checking every database I can think of...federal, state, and local. No one's heard anything about Ava. She just...into thin air, ya know?" Sam said "huh." Dean said as he handed Sam a coffee and me a soda "what about you?" Sam asked "no, same as before. Sorry, man." Dean said "Ellen did have one thing." Sam said "hmm?" Dean asked him "a hotel in Cornwall, Connecticut. Two freak accidents in the past three weeks." Sam said "yeah? What's that have to do with Ava?" Dean asked him "it's a job. I mean, a lady drowned in the bathtub; then a few days ago, a guy falls down the stairs, head turns a complete one-eighty. Which isn't exactly normal, ya know? Look, don't know, Dean, it might be nothing, but I told Ellen we'd think about checking it out." Sam said.

"You did?" Dean asked "yeah. You seem surprised." Sam said "well yeah, it's just, ya know. Not the, uh, patented Sam Winchester way, is it." Dean said "what way is that?" Sam asked "I just figured after Ava there'd be, uh, ya know, more angst and droopy music and staring out the rainy windows, and-." Dean said as Sam gave him a look "yeah, I'll shut up now." Dean muttered "look. I'm the one who told her to go back home. Now her fiancé's dead, and some demon has taken her off to god knows where. Ya know? But we've been looking for a month now, and we've got nothing. So, I'm not giving up on her, but i'm not going to let other people die either.
We've got to save as many people as we can." Sam said.

"Wow. That attitude is just way too healthy for me, and I'm officially uncomfortable now. Thank you." Dean said as Sam laughed "all right, call Ellen. Tell her we'll take it." Dean said.

[......]
Cornwall, Connecticut
Pulling up to a large Victorian-style house called the Pierpont Inn. Once we got out of the Impala, we all stared up at the inn, completely astonished "dude, this is sweet. I never get to work jobs like this." Dean said "like what?" Sam asked him "old school haunted houses, ya know? Fog and secret passageways...sissy British accents. Might even run into Fred and Daphne while we're inside." Dean joked "that would be awesome." I said "mmm, Daphne. Love her." Dean mumbled "I take back what I said." I replied as we grabbed our bags and started walking up to the house.

"Hey, wait a sec." Sam said when Dean and I stopped to look, he was staring at a giant urn "I'm not so sure haunted's the problem." Sam said as Dean furrowed his brow "what do you mean?" Dean asked him "you see this pattern here? That's a quincunx, that's a five-spot." Sam said "five-spot?" Dean asked "yeah." Sam said "that's used for hoodoo spell work, isn't it?" Dean said "right, yeah. You fill this thing with bloodweed, and you've got a powerful charm to ward off enemies." Sam said "yeah, except I don't see any bloodweed. Don't you think this place is a little too, uh, white meat for hoodoo?" Dean asked.

"Maybe." Sam said as we continued up the stairs and inside "may I help you?" A woman asked from behind a desk "hi, yeah, I'd like a room for a couple of nights." Dean said as we walked forward, two girls, a little younger than me, ran right in front of us "hey! Sorry about that." She said "no problem." Sam said "well, um, congratulations, you could be some of our final guests." The woman sighed "well. Sounds vaguely ominous." Dean said "no, I'm sorry. I mean, we're closing at the end of the month. Well, let me guess. You guys are here antiquing?" She questioned.

"How'd you know?" Dean asked "oh, you just look the type. So, uh, king-sized bed and a single-sized bed?" The woman said "what? No, uh, no, we're- we're-three singles if possible.
We're just brothers and our little sister." Sam said "oh. Oh, I'm so sorry." She said "what'd you mean that we look the type?" Dean asked her "uh-uh-." The woman stumbled over her words "ya know, speaking of antiques, you have a really, really interesting urn on the front porch. Where did you get that?" Sam asked "oh, I have no idea. It's been there forever. Here you go, Mr. Mahagov. Two singles and a pull-out couch." The woman said as she handed Dean the key.

"Thanks." Dean said "you'l be staying in room 237. Sherwin, could you show them to their rooms?" The woman said as we turned around to see an old balding man in a black blazer shuffling toward us "let me guess. Antiquers?" He asked us as Dean chuckled awkwardly. Sherwin picked up our duffel bags and led us up the stairs, our bags hitting every step of the way "I could give you a hand." Dean said "I got it." Sherwin said as Dean shrugged "okay." Dean said "so, the hotel's closing up, huh?" Sam asked as we reached the top of the stairs "yup. Miss Susan tried to make a go of it, but the guests just don't come like they used to. Still, it's a damn shame." Sherwin said.

"Oh yeah?" Sam asked him "it may not look it anymore, but this place was a palace. Two different vice-presidents laid their heads on our pillows. My parents worked here. I practically grew up here. Gonna miss it. Here's your room. Sherwin said as he slipped the key into the door and opened it, handing the key to Sam as he walked in. He put our bags down on the floor and then held his hand out to Dean. Dean looked at his hand and then up at him, confused "you're not gonna cheap out on me, are you, boy?" Sherwin asked him as Dean shrugged, looking annoyed, and pulled out his wallet.

After Sherwin left, we settled in, and Sam sat down to start doing some research. Looking around the room, it was kind of dingy and decorated with antiques and old pictures "what the..." Dean said as he walked up to an antique wedding dress pinned to the wall like it was flowing in the wind "what?" Sam asked him "that's normal. Why the hell would anyone stay here? I'm amazed they kept in business this long." Dean questioned "all right. Victim number one: Joan Edison, forty-three-years-old, a realtor handling the sale of the hotel. And victim number two was Larry Williams, moving some stuff out to Goodwill." Sam said as Dean sat on one of the beds. It practically caved in under him "well, there's a connection: they're both tied up in shutting the place down." Dean said "yeah. Maybe somebody here doesn't want to leave, and they're using hoodoo to fight back." Sam said "who do you think our witch doctor is, that Susan lady?" Dean asked.

"No, doesn't seem likely. I mean, she is the one selling." Sam said as he shook his head "Sherwin?" I asked "I don't know." Sam replied "of course, the most troubling question Is, why do these people assume we're gay?" Dean asked "well, you are kinda butch. Probably think you're overcompensating." Sam said "right." Dean sarcastically said.