the prophecy, spn [ 1 ]

034. sad drunk

They're still in Peoria and looking for Ava, not finding anything. Sam is on the phone with Ellen while Rachel is sitting on one of the beds and Thomas is lying down on the other one, asleep.

Dean gets back to the motel as Sam hangs up.

"What'd she have to say?" Dean asks.

"Oh, she's got nothing." Sam says. "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, you know? Demon really did good at covering its tracks."

"What about you?" Sam asks, taking a coffee cup from Dean.

"No, same as before. Sorry, man." Dean says.

"Ellen did have one thing." Sam says.

"Hmm?" Dean asks.

"A hotel in Cornwall, Connecticut. Two freak accidents in the past three weeks." Sam informs.

"Yeah? What's that have to do with Ava?" Dean asks.

"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 180. Which isn't exactly normal, you know? Look, I don't know, Dean, it might be nothing, but I told Ellen we'd think about checking it out."

"You did?"

"Yeah. You seem surprised."

"Well, yeah, it's just, you know, not the, uh, patented Sam Winchester way, is it?" Dean asks, sitting on his bed.

"What way is that?" Sam asks, ready to get defensive.

"I just figured after Ava there'd be, uh, you know, more angst and droopy music and staring out the rainy windows, and--" Dean stops as Sam gives him a look. "Yeah, I'll shut up now."

"Look. I'm the one who told her to go back home. Now her fiance's dead and some demon has taken her off to God knows where. You know?" Sam says, sitting on the edge of his bed. "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."

"Wow. That attitude is just way too healthy for me, and I'm officially uncomfortable. Thank you." Dean says making Sam laugh. "All right, call Ellen. Tell her we'll take it."

+++

Dean pulls up to the inn and they get out of the car and grab their bags.

"Dude, this is sweet. I never get to work jobs like this." Dean says.

"Like what?" Sam asks.

"Old school haunted houses, you know? Fog and secret passageways... sissy British accents. Might even run into Fred and Daphne while we're inside. Mm, Daphne. Love her." Dean hums.

"Hey, wait a sec." Sam calls, making them stop. "I'm not so sure haunted's the problem."

"What do you mean?" Dean asks.

"You see this pattern here?" Sam asks, nodding at the five point symbol that's engraved on an urn. "That's a quincunx, that's a five spot."

"Five spot." Dean echoes.

"Yeah." Sam nods.

"That's used for hoodoo spellwork, isn't it?" Dean asks.

"Right, yeah. You fill this thing with bloodweed and you've got a powerful charm to ward off enemies." Sam explains.

"Yeah, except I don't see any bloodweed. Don't you think this place is a little too, uh, white meat for hoodoo?" Dean asks.

"Maybe." Sam shrugs.