Hells Bells

It's the Great Pumpkin, Sam Winchester

"Ace!" Dean practically screamed as he slammed his fist on the door of my motel room.

"Please no." I whispered. For once I actually had my own room for my hangover that had been going on for three days. The drinking went on for three weeks so this better be it. "What?" I whispered, opening the door.
My hair was a tangled, my face was pasty and tired, my pants had a giant stain on them, my shirt had a hole ripped through the bottom, all in all I was a mess.

"I can't hear you!" He screamed, walking into my room.

"Nooo." I whispered, laying back on the bed.

"Have you been sleeping for three days?" Sam asked, closing the door behind him.

"Yes."

"Let's play, guess what we're hunting." Dean leaned on the kitchen counter.

"Clues." I crawled back under the covers.

"Razor blades stuck in a guys throat after he ate candy." Sam set me up.

"I was hoping for vampire, but that's out." I bit my lip. "Demon?"

"Nope. Second clue." Dean looked to Sam.

"We found this behind the fridge." Sam tossed a hex bag to me.

"Aw. Double nooo." I let my head fall onto the pillow. "What is witch."

"Yes twenty points." Dean smiled.

"Okay, you two start research, I'm going to take a whole bottle of Advil, throw up three times, shower for an hour and I'll meet you guys in your room, okay break!" I walked into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me.

"Anything?" I walked into their hotel room, now fully showered and semi nice looking.

"Not much." Sam sat on the couch, hunched over his laptop with papers scattered across the coffee table.
Dean stuffed candy into his mouth, chewing it loudly. "Really? After that guy choked down all those razor blades?" Sam asked him.

"It's Halloween man." Dean threw out his arms.

"Yeah, for us, every day is Halloween." Sam typed on his laptop.

"Don't be a downer." Dean sat on the arm of the couch while I collapsed on a bed. "Your hair's wet, lay on Sam's bed." Dean commanded, so I jumped over to the next bed.

Sam gave me a look, but stopped to look at the computer. "Here's something. This isn't a typical hex bag. Gold thread, an herb that's been extinct for 200 years." He held up some twisted string. "And this is keltic, and I don't mean some new age knock off, looks like the real deal, like 600 years old." He held a coin. "And that is a charred metacarpal bone of a newborn baby." He referred to the thing Dean was sniffing.

"Aw." Dean cringed, tossing it down.

"Relax man, it's at least a hundred years old."

"That makes it better?" Dean stood up. "Witches man, they're freaking skeevy."

"Takes a pretty powerful one to put something like this together. More juice than what we've ever dealt with before. What about you, did you find anything on the victim?" Sam asked Dean.

"Luke Wallis was so vanilla that he made vanilla seem spicy. I can't find any reason that somebody would want this guy dead." Dean shook his head.

"Please don't talk about anything even close to food-" I sat up, covering my mouth, making a puking sound.

"Ace don't do it-" Sam's eyes widened. "Ace don't you dare throw up in my bed!" He yelled. I gagged again. "Ace don't do it!"
That's when I puked.