Chapter 11 - Playthings
Addison and Dean walk into the motel room, each carrying cups of coffee to see Sam on his phone. Addison was still unsure about her feelings for Sam. Sam had explained how he had met Ava, but none of that helped Addison in dealing with her feelings. "Yeah. Okay thanks, Ellen," Sam says and hangs up the phone.
"What'd Ellen say," Addison asks him, taking a seat next to Sam on the bed.
"She's got nothing. Me, I've been checking every database I could think of - federal, state, and local. No one's heard anything about Ava. She just...into thin air, you? What about you two?"
"No, same as before. Sorry, man," Dean answers.
"Yeah. Ellen did have one thing," Sam replies and they wait for him to continue. "A hotel in Cornwall, Connecticut - two freak accidents in the past three weeks."
"How does that have anything to do with Ava," Addison asks him. She may not like Ava, but the woman's disappearance had something to do with a demon and that was enough to make her concerned. Especially since Ava had psychic powers like Sam.
"It's a job," Sam counters. "I mean, a lady drowned in the bathtub, then a few days ago, guy falls down the stairs, head turns a complete 180. Which isn't exactly normal, you know? Look, I don't know, it might be nothing. But I told Ellen we'd think about checking it out."
"You did," Dean asks.
"Yeah. You seem surprised."
"Well, it's just not the patented Sam Winchester way, is it?"
"And what way is that?"
"I just figured after Ava, there'd be more angst, droopy music, staring out the rainy windows," Dean answers. Addison rolls her eyes as Sam stares at his brother. "Okay, I'll shut up now."
"Look, I'm the one who told her to go back home. Now, her fiancée's dead and some demon has taken her off to God-knows-where, you know? We've been looking for a month now. We've got nothing. So, I'm not giving up on her, but I'm not gonna let other people die either. We've gotta save as many people as we can."
"Wow. That attitude is just way to healthy for me. I'm officially uncomfortable now. Thank you." Addison snorts, moving over to her duffle bag." All right, call Ellen. Tell her we'll take it," Dean tells him.
They pull up in front of the large hotel and Addison examines the old building. To her, it was just like every other mansion on the east coast. With exception that it was a hotel. They get out and gather their gear from the Impala's trunk. "Dude, this is sweet! We never get to work jobs like this," Dean comments as they start walking towards the hotel.
"Like what?" Sam asks him.
"Old-school haunted houses, you know? Fog, secret passageways, sissy British accents. We might even run into Fred and Daphne—"
"You say one thing about me being Daphne and I'll smack you." Addison interrupts him and Dean sends her a disbelieving look. "I'm serious, Dean."
"I'm not so sure 'haunted' is the problem." Sam comments and they turn to where he is pointing to an urn.
"What are you talking about," Addison asks him, moving to stand next to him.
"You see this pattern here? That's a quincunx. It's a five-spot."
"A five-spot," Dean asks.
"It's used for hoodoo spell work. Fill the urn with bloodweed and you have a powerful charm to keep enemies away," Addison explains.
"Yeah, except I don't see any bloodweed. Don't you think this place is a little too white-meat for hoodoo?"
"Maybe," Sam replies. They enter the motel and walk over to the front desk where a woman was standing.
"May I help you," the woman asks them and Addison notices the nameplate, reading that the woman's name was Susan.
"Hi, yeah. We'd like a room for a couple of nights," Dean answers as a little girl runs by them. The girl bumps into Sam, but keeps running.
"Hey," Susan scolds and turns to them. "Sorry about that."
"No problem," Sam replies.
"Well, congratulations. You could be some of our final guests."
"That's a little ominous," Addison comments, pulling out her credit card.
"No, I'm sorry. I mean we're closing at the end of the month. Let me guess - you're here antiquing?"
"Yes, we are. Me and my bestest buddies," Addison answers and Susan gives her a smile. "How'd you know?"
"Oh, you just look the type." Addison inwardly smirks. She knew exactly what Susan thought of them. "So, two rooms with a king sized bed in each?"
"No, no, uh, no, one room with two doubles," Sam says. He motions between himself and Dean. "We're just brothers."
Dean puts his arm around Addison's shoulders and pulls her against his side. "Oh...oh, I'm so sorry," Susan replies, flushing with embarrassment.
"What'd you mean that we look the type," Dean asks.
"You know, speaking of antiques, you have a really interesting urn on the front porch. Where did you get that," Sam asks, saving Susan any further embarrassment.
"You know I have no idea. It's been there forever. Here you go, Miss Jones," Susan answers. She hands Addison a key. "You'll be staying in Room 237." An older man, wearing a suit walks into the room and Addison raises an eyebrow. "Sherwin, could you show our guests to their rooms?"
"Let me guess - antiquers." Sherwin asks them. He takes their bags and the key from Addison, then they follow him up the stairs to their room.
"I can give you a hand with that bag," Dean says, as Sherwin drags the weapons bag behind him.
"I've got it."
"Okay."
"So, the hotel's closing up, huh," Sam asks him.
"Yep. 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."
"What do you mean," Addison asks Sherwin.
"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 unlocks the door and they enter the room. Addison turns to see Sherwin holding his hand out and Dean staring at him. "You're not gonna cheap out on me, are you, boy?"
Dean lightly hits Addison on the shoulder and she looks at him. "There's your wedding dress, Ads." Dean motions to the where a old dress was hanging on the wall and she rolls her eyes. "Why the hell would anyone stay here? I'm amazed they kept in business this long."
"All right. Victim number one - Joan Edison, forty-three years old, a realtor, handling the sale of the hotel," Sam explains to them. "And victim number two was Larry Williams, moving some stuff out to Goodwill."
"Well, there's a connection. They're both tied up in shutting the place down."
"Yeah. Maybe someone here doesn't wanna leave and they're using hoodoo to fight back."
"Who do you think the witch doctor is? That Susan lady?"
"She's selling the place, Dean," Addison comments, standing up from one of the beds.
"So, what then? Sherwin?"
"I don't know," Sam answers.
"Of course, the most troubling question is, 'Why do these people assume we're gay?'"
"Oh, I think you know the answer to that, hot stuff," Addison replies, slapping Dean's ass before entering the bathroom.
The three of them are walking down the hallway. After going over the research, Addison had made the suggestion of exploring the hotel. She mostly said it because she was bored. Sam stops, noticing something on the vase. "Hey. Look at that. More hoodoo."
Dean knocks on a door that had a sign that read private and Susan answers. "Hi there."
"Hi. Everything okay with your room," Susan asks them.
"Uh, yeah, everything is great," Addison answers as Dean and Sam do the same.
"Good. Well, I was just in the middle of packing, so—"
"Hey, are those antique dolls," Dean asks and Addison notices the wall of dolls in the room. "Cause this one here..." Dean pushes Addison forwards and she tensely grins. "She's got a major doll collection back home. Don't ya, babe?"
"Yep, a huge doll collection." Addison answers, silently thinking of ways to get back at Dean.
"You think we could come in and take a look?"
"I don't know." Susan replies.
"Please. I mean she loves them. She's not gonna tell you this, but she's always dressing them up in these little, tiny outfits, and you'd make her day." Dean turns to her and Addison stares at him. "She would, huh? Huh?"
Addison turns to Susan. "It - it really would."
"Okay. Come on in." Susan moves from the door and they enter the room.
"All right. All right...wow. This is a lot of dolls. Nice, you know - not super-creepy at all," Dean comments.
"Yeah, I suppose they are a little creepy. But they've been in the family forever. A lot of sentimental value."
Sam notices a dollhouse sitting on the coffee table. "What is this? The hotel?"
"Yeah, that's right. Exact replica, custom-built," Susan answers and Sam sees a doll with a head turned backwards, showing it to Addison and Dean.
"His head got twisted around. What happened to it?"
"Tyler, probably," Susan tells him as the little girl from earlier runs into the room.
"Mommy, Maggie's being mean," Tyler says.
"Tyler, tell her I said to be nice, okay?"
"Hey, Tyler. I see you broke your doll. You want me to fix it," Sam asks Tyler.
"I didn't break it. I found it like that," Tyler tells him. Addison smirks at the tone in the girl's voice.
"Oh. Well, maybe Maggie did it."
"No, neither of us did it. Grandma would get mad if we broke them."
"Tyler, she wouldn't get mad," Susan tells Tyler.
"Grandma," Dean asks.
"Grandma Rose. There were all her toys," Tyler answers.
"Oh really...where's Grandma Rose now?"
"Up in her room."
"I'd really like to talk to Rose about her amazing doll-" Addison starts to asks before Susan interrupts.
"No," Susan sternly says and Addison frowns. "I mean...I'm afraid that's impossible. My mother's been very sick and she's not taking any visitors."
"Oh, I'm sorry. But, uh, thanks for letting me look at the dolls. So, we're just going to leave you to pack," Addison tells Susan and the three of them leave the room, heading back down the hallway towards their room.
"Well, what do you think? Dolls, hoodoo, mysterious shut-in grandma," Dean comments.
"Well dolls are used in all kinds of voodoo and hoodoo, like curses and binding spells," Sam answers and Addison nods in agreement.
"Yeah, maybe we've found our witch doctor. We'll go see what we can dig up on Booming Granny. You get online, check old obits, freak accidents, that sort of thing. See if she's whacked anybody before."
"Right."
"And don't go surfing porn, that's not the kind of whacking I mean," Dean tells him and Addison rolls her eyes, grabbing her bag off the bed and following Dean out of the room.
"What was up with the whole doll thing," Addison demands, once they're outside the hotel. "I've never had a doll collection. Nor would I ever have a creepy doll collection."
"It was payback for what you said to that Susan lady when we checked in," Dean replies and Addison rolls her eyes.
Addison and Dean walk up to Susan, having just gotten back from the local library to see the cops and corner loading a body in a van. Of course while she researched, Dean had talked to the pretty librarian. And Addison felt smug at the fact that the librarian had no interest in Dean. "What happened," Dean asks Susan.
"The maid went in to turn down the sheets and he was just…" Susan rubs her arms, trying to give herself some form of comfort. "Hanging there."
"That's horrible. Was he a guest," Addison softly asks.
"He worked for the company that bought the place. I don't understand."
"What," Dean asks.
"I've had a lot of bad luck around here. Look, if you'd like to check out, I'll give you a full refund."
"No, thanks. We don't scare that easy," Dean answers and they walk into the hotel. They quietly walk up the stairs and enter the room. Sam was sitting in the dark, staring at the wall. Addison turns on a lamp and he blinks at the fluorescent light fills the room. "There's been another one. Some guy just hung himself in his room."
"Yeah. I saw," Sam replies.
"Did you find anything online," Addison asks him.
"You're super short."
Addison stares at him. "Sam, are you drunk?"
Sam shrug. "Yeah. So? Stupid."
"Dude, what are you thinking? We're working a case," Dean angrily demands.
"That guy who hung himself - I couldn't save him," Sam tearfully answers and Addison lets out a sigh.
"What are you talking about? You didn't know, you couldn't have done anything."
"That's an excuse, Dean. I should've found a way to save him. I should've saved Ava, too."
"Sam, you can't save everyone," Addison softly tells him. "And you know that."
"No, Addison, you don't understand, all right? The more people I save, the more I can change."
"Change what," Dean asks him.
"My destiny, Dean!"
"All right, time for bed. Come on, Sasquatch." Dean grabs Sam and pushes him towards the bed.
"I need you to watch out for me."
"Yeah. I always do."
"No, no, no. You both have to watch out for me, all right? And if I ever turn into something that I'm not...you have to kill me."
"Sam..."
"Dean, Dad told you do it. You have to."
"Yeah, well, Dad's an ass. He never should've said anything. I mean, you don't do that, you don't lay that kind of shit on your kids."
"No, he was right to say it. Who knows what I might become? Even now, everyone around me dies!"
"Well, I'm not dying, Addison's not dying, okay? And neither are you. Come on." Dean pushes Sam on the bed. Addison lets out a sigh.
"No, please. Dean, you're the only one who can do it. Promise."
"Don't ask that of me."
"Dean, please. You have to promise me."
"I promise," Dean says after a moment and Sam drunkenly hugs him.
"Thanks. Thank you," Sam replies and lies down on the bed.
"Go. I'll stay," Addison tells him. Dean nods and walks out of the room. She grabs her laptop of out her bag and sits down on the bed she was sharing with Dean.
"Ads." She looks over to find Sam staring at her.
"You okay?"
"Come here." Addison sits down on the edge of his bed. He pulls her farther onto the bed and rests his head in her lap. "Love you." She looks down at him. Addison sighs and runs her hand through his hair.
Addison searches through her bag and pulls out a bottle of aspirin as Dean walks over to the bathroom the next morning. "How you feeling, Sammy," Dean asks and gets a groan in response. "I guess mixing whiskey and Jager wasn't a such a gangbuster idea, was it? I bet you don't remember a thing from last night, do you?"
"Ugh, I can still taste the tequila," Sam groans out.
"You know, there's a really good hangover remedy. It's a greasy pork sandwich served up in a dirty ashtray."
"Oh, I hate you."
Addison rolls her eyes and walks over to the bathroom. "Catch. Aspirin always help with the headache," she says and Sam catches the bottle.
"Hey, it turns out when Grandma Rose was a tyke, she had a Creole nanny who wore a hoodoo necklace," Dean explains to them.
"Think she taught Rose a thing or to?"
"Yes, I do."
"All right. I think it's time we talk to Rose, then," Sam replies, standing up. He leans against the door. They both take a couple of steps away from him.
"You need to brush your teeth first," Dean tells him.
They arrive at Susan's door and Sam knocks on it. "Hello? Susan," Sam asks and silence is heard. "All clear?"
"Uh huh," Addison answers, looking around. The door opens and the three of them enter the apartment. Dean opens another door and they walk up the stairs until they see an old woman sitting in a wheelchair in the dark.
"Mrs. Thompson? Mrs. Thompson? Rose?" They walk around to front of the chair and Addison sees that Rose is very scared. "Hi, Mrs. Thompson. We're not here to hurt you, it's okay. We...Rose?" Rose tries to speak but is unable and Addison pulls Sam and Dean away.
"She's had a stroke, so it can't be her," Addison whispers. Sam nods in agreement. "Hoodoo is hands on, you have to mix herbs, chant, build an altar."
"Might not even be hoodoo," Sam comments.
"You know, she could be faking," Dean tells them and Addison stares at him.
"What are you going to do? Poke her with a stick," Addison asks him and Dean nods. "Dean! You're not gonna poke that poor lady with a stick!"
"What the hell? What are you doing in here," a voice demands and they turn to see that Susan had entered the room.
"Oh, we just wanted to talk to Rose," Sam quickly explains to Susan.
"Look at her, she is scared out of her wits. I want you three out of my hotel in two minutes or I'm calling the cops," Susan angrily tells them and they leave the room.
Addison and Dean reach Sam and Susan, as Sam helps Susan up. They had stayed hidden in the bushes after parking the Impala out of view from any of the hotel's windows. But the moment Susan's car had started towards her, Sam had rushed out to help. "You okay," Sam asks Susan.
"I think so," Susan answers.
"Come on, come on. Let's get inside," Dean tells them and they quickly enter the hotel, moving to the dining room.
"Whiskey," Susan says as Addison moves behind the bar.
"I know the feeling," Addison reassures Susan.
"What the hell happened out there?"
"You want the truth," Dean asks Susan.
"Of course."
"Well, at first, we thought it was some sort of a hoodoo curse. But that out there? That was definitely a spirit," Dean explains.
"You're insane," Susan says, as Addison hands her the drink.
"So, we've been told," Addison comments.
"Look, I'm sorry, Susan. We don't exactly have time to ease you into this. But we need to know when your mother had the stroke," Sam says and Susan looks at him.
"What does that have to do with anything," Susan asks.
"Just answer the question."
"About a month ago."
"Right before the killings began," Sam comments and turns to them. "See? So, what if Rose was working hoodoo, but not to hurt anyone, to protect them?"
"She was using the five-spot urns to ward off a spirit," Dean reasons.
"Until she had a stroke and was unable to continue," Addison finishes.
Susan looks at the three of them. "I don't believe this."
"Listen, sister, that car didn't try to run you down by itself, okay," Dean replies and Addison shakes her head in disbelief. "Well, I guess it did, technically, but a spirit can - forget it."
"Just believe what you want, all right? But the fact is you and your family are in danger. So you need to clear everybody out of her - your employees, your mother, your daughters, everyone," Sam says to Susan.
"Um, I only have one daughter," Susan corrects.
"One," Addison asks, confused.
"I thought Tyler had a sister named Maggie," Dean asks.
"Maggie's imaginary," Susan explains and they exchange a look.
"Where's Tyler," Sam asks.
"Her room," Susan answers and stands up, before running out of the dining room. The three of them follow Susan up to Tyler's room and enter to see that most of the dolls are broken. "Oh my God. Tyler! Tyler! She's not here!"
"Susan, what do you know about Maggie," Addison asks the frantic mother.
"Not much. Tyler's been talking about her since Mom got sick."
"Did you know someone with that name?"
"No."
"Think, think. Maybe somebody that could have lived here, might have passed away," Dean asks.
"Oh my God. My mom. My mom had a sister named Margaret. She barely spoke about her."
"Did Margaret happen to die here when she was a kid," Sam asks.
"She drowned in the pool," Susan answers.
"Come on," Dean says and the four of them exit the room. They run out the hotel and to the pool house. When they arrive they can see Tyler standing on the ledge through the class doors.
"Tyler," Susan shouts as Sam and Dean try to break down the door. "Tyler!"
"Come on!"
"Mommy," Tyler shouts before falling off the ledge.
"Is there another entrance," Dean asks Susan.
"Around back," Susan answers.
"All right, let's go. You two keep working."
"Go," Addison tells him and Susan shows Dean to the other entrance. "Sam, use the urn, it might break the glass." She moves back and watches as Sam slams the stone urn against the glass, which finally breaks. Sam pushes the glass away and runs onto the ledge, before jumping off the ledge into the pool, as she gets through the door. Addison rushes down the stairs as Dean and Susan enter the pool house. Sam lays a limp Tyler on the edge of the pool and they wait in a tense silence until the little girl coughs up water.
"Oh, thank God! Thank God," Susan breathes out and tightly embraces her daughter.
"Mommy," Tyler says.
"Yeah, baby, I'm here!"
"Tyler, do you see Maggie anywhere," Sam asks.
"No, she's gone," Tyler answers and they let out a relived sigh.
Addison, Dean, and Sam walk over to where Susan was watching the coroners put her mother's body in the truck. Susan had found her mother not breathing and they had rushed up to see what had happened. "The paramedics said it was another stroke. You think Margaret could have had something to do with it," Susan asks them.
"We don't know," Dean answers.
"But it's possible," Sam counters and gives Susan a sad smile. "Susan, I'm sorry."
"God, you have nothing to apologize for. You've given me everything," Susan tells him as Tyler comes outside. Susan puts an arm around her and pulls her close. "Ready to go, kiddo?"
"Yeah," Tyler says.
"Tyler, are you sure that Maggie isn't around anymore," Addison asks the little girl.
"I'm sure. I'd see her," Tyler tells her as they walk to a taxi.
"Well, I guess whatever's going on must be over," Dean reasons and Addison nods.
"You two take care of yourselves, all right," Sam says to Susan, who gives him a hug.
"Thank you. All of you," Susan tells them and gets into the taxi.
"I think you could've hooked up some MILF action there, man," Dean comments and Addison rolls her eyes, as they start walking over to the Impala.
"Yeah, that's all she needs," Sam retorts.
"Well, you saved the mom, you saved the girl - not a bad day. Of course, you know I could've saved her myself, but I didn't want you to feel useless."
Sam scoffs. "All right, I appreciate it."
"Feels good to get back in the saddle, doesn't it?"
"Yeah. Yeah, it does. But it doesn't change what we talked about last night."
"We talked about a lot of things last night."
"You know what I mean."
"Sam, you were drunk," Addison comments.
"But Dean wasn't," Sam says to her and looks at his brother. "And you promised." Sam gets in the Impala and Addison looks at Dean.
"You're not going to have to do anything," Addison quietly tells him and climbs into the backseat of the Impala. Dean stands there for a minute, before getting in the driver's seat.