The Winchester Code

Chapter 7 - Sleeping Beauty

Sleeping Beauty

Chapter 7

I woke up to the smell of strong coffee and grease. I sat up and rubbed my eyes, looking to the clock on my bedside table. 10:14 am. I stretched and in my bed, trying to orientate myself. We’d been at Bobby’s around eight hours and, so far, Dean hadn’t gone off at me or Bobby.
I climbed out of bed and pulled the covers up. I grabbed the towel I had folded in my bottom drawer and also some clean clothes from my dresser. I wondered down the hall to the shower. It would feel good to wash off hours of sleep and car rides.

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After my shower, I made my way downstairs to where Bobby and Dean were sitting at the kitchen table. I wasn’t wrong about the smell. Black coffee sat in a cracked mug next to an old plate of freshly fried sausages, bacon and eggs. Dean was already halfway through his plate and smiled at me as I took my place at the table.
“Finally up sleeping beauty.” Bobby asked.
“Thanks.” I replied, regarding the food. I picked up my fork and started in on the greasy goodness.
“I was just telling Bobby about that poltergeist we were hunting.”
“Oh yeah?” I ask around my mouthful of eggs.
“Yeah, it was a bit tougher than normal. The kid’s hair was on a doll that had been stolen by some looters then sold in a garage sale.” Dean explained.
The way to stop a spirit from coming back is to burn it. People can choose whether they want to stay on earth or go on to the afterlife, either heaven or hell (though they don’t get to choose where they go). Right now, however, dead people don’t really get a choice. They either go to hell or are stuck in the void. When spirits are trapped in the void, they eventually go crazy and turn into evil spirits, attacking people, killing them, normally the same way they were killed. In the void, emotions are heightened, anger turns into rage and that turns into killing which means that we have to go and burn their sorry asses. Most of the time, we go dig up the spirits bones from when they were living, we salt them and set them on fire, then that is that, no more ghosts. But sometimes, we fry them and they still hang around, which means that we have to go and find something else of theirs. In the case of the ghost that Dean was telling Bobby about, it was the poltergeists hair.
Back when the ghost child – a little girl – died, she had her hair put on a little doll in her memory. The doll had to be destroyed to stop the ghost from killing more people.
“The doll belonged to a little girl.” Dean explained. “The girl had named the doll Arora or something. Too bad we had to fry it.”
“I got her a new doll.” I put in.
“Yeah, Sam loved doll shopping.” Dean chided. “Gets him in touch with his feminine side. Gives him a taste of his childhood.”
“Shut up, Dean.” I snap, angrily skewering with my fork. Dean smiled triumphantly, taking a swig from his coffee mug.
“Did you end up fixing the windows?” Bobby asked. I looked at my brother, a little surprised he told the old hunter about the strange happenings of that night.
“Yeah, but there’s a strange sound coming from her engine.” Dean answered. He calls his car his baby. Treats me better than any girl ever did he says. “Do you mind if I use some of your tools?”
“Have I ever?” Besides being an exceptional hunter and under-cover man, Bobby owns a car yard, mainly used as a cover to keep out prying eyes. But the workshop is also very handy for when Dean wants to work on his baby.
“Thanks.” Dean said, picking up a piece of bacon. He clamps clamped it between his teeth and pushed himself away from the table. “You know where I am if you need me.” He called over his shoulder as he exited.
I glanced at Bobby, who was staring at me expectantly. I turn back to eating my breakfast, trying to ignore his glare.
“You haven’t told him.” He accused.
“No,” I winced. “I haven’t. I figured –”
“I don’t want to hear it.” Bobby cut me off. He looked past me and I followed his gaze to the grandfather clock, just visible in the study.
“Ten minutes.” He said, turning back to me.
“What?” I asked.
“Check on her in ten minutes. Give her some water.”
“She hasn’t woken up?”
“Not exactly.” Bobby answered. He looked me over and without another word, he left the kitchen for his study. Before he even reaches his desk, a phone rings. He pauses before answering.
“Rupert Phillips, FBI.” I heard him say. I took a mouthful of coffee. “Of curse agent Lee is with us, he’s one of our best agents.”
I smile to myself. Bobby is the cover for many hunters, including Dean and myself. He makes a convincing boss and it’s funny when we hand people an FBI contact card and watch their faces fall when Bobby delivers the same ‘best agent’ line.
I look back at the grandfather clock, slowly ticking in Bobby’s red-walled study.
Five minutes.