Without A Trace >> Dean Winchester

42 | Clip Show [ Son of A Witch, Actually ]

42 | Clip Show [ Son of A Witch, Actually ]

IT'S A RAINY AND WET NIGHT with occasional thunders, perfectly reflecting the trio's mood. They ruined their chances of the exorcism, but they could grab another demon and do it, but the fact that time is wasted really got them down.

As they enter the house address Crowley texted Sam, they caught whiff of a rotten smell. It wasn't like rotten trash, or anything, but it smelled horrible. Weird, they thought. Shining their flashlights on the normal-looking house, they quickly, but silently crept in each corner of the living room, dining room with a gun on their hands.

Clarissa makes a left turn to the kitchen and saw pink frosted cupcakes on the counter. But she stopped dead in her tracks when she spotted a woman's dead body jammed into an oven—her skin looked totally toasted. She realised that's where the rotten smell was coming from—the cooked body.

"Sam! Dean!" Clarissa yelled, and they come scampering over, taking a good look at the disaster.

"Is that—Jennie?" Sam covers his nose, attempting to block the foul odour when his cell rings. Pulling it out, ID number is labelled as '666' and Sam quickly puts it speaker, "what the hell are you doing Crowley?"

"Oh, Moosie. Isn't it obvious? I'm killing every one you've ever saved—damsels in distress, the innocent whippersnappers, the would-be vampire-chow, all of them."

"How do you even know—"

"I have my sources. I have a cracking research team. When you boys hit a town, you tend to leave a mess. Now, you're probably wondering why my droogs aren't in there giving you the bum's rush, so let's brass these tracks, shall we? I'm gonna but a person every 12 hours until you bring me the demon tablet and stop this whole...trials nonsense."

"We don't have the tablet." Sam speaks to the phone, "Kevin took it and—"

"I took Kevin, and someone took him back. Word from the cloud is that it wasn't heaven, so either the cutest little prophet in the world is with you two lads or you better find him tout-bloody-suite. Because time, she is a-wasting. About now, you're thinking of ways to stop  me. You won't be able to—but you're welcome to try, because that's what you do, you try. So time for an object lesson. Indianapolis, the Ivy Motel, room 116.  You have 57 minutes."

And with that, the line goes dead.

x x x

As Sam opens the door for Dean and Clarissa, they walk in with the needed...materials they think that could ward off Crowley's tricks.

"Sara!" Dean greats, "long time no see. What are you doing in Indy?"

Dean has told Clarissa about Sara. They had work a case involving her, wherein she risked her own life to help them destroy a cursed painting, and is the daughter of an art gallery owned.

"I was scouting an estate sale for my dad." She stutters, fumbling with her fingers.

Dean and Clarissa go straight to the plan—loading guns with rock salt, and preparing the spray paint cans

"Look, we're gonna put devil's traps everywhere—the windows, the door.mwe got holy water, an exorcism ready to plan a loop and anything that comes through that door is meat." Sam tells Sara, "look, I know this is insane, but insane is kinda what we do."