Sam picked the lock of the Philadelphia apartment with ease before cautiously stepping in. Dean close on his heels. "I feel kinda bad, crashing in on Jo's case." He said once he knew the place was empty.
Dean stepped in past him. "Well...she really did her research. But could you really see her out working one of these things? Last time we saw her she didn't even know you were possessed." Dean hated that he had to remind Sam of that night. His little brother still wouldn't talk about it. Dean knew why. Meg had taunted him with hints of spilling some twisted tale of their relationship to Jo. "She can't believe her charming white knight Deano is a brother fucking sex freak." Meg's words rang like nails on a chalkboard. The kind of sound you never wanted to hear again.
Dean may never know what that bitch had really said. Sam buried the memories, shoving it deep down in hopes it would cease to exist. The same thing Dean was currently doing by not asking about Sam's strange behavior and that damn canteen being out on the desk. It was the Winchester way. If you can't kill it, escape it, or talk about it, you bury it. They moved in unison, pulling out EMF detectors to begin scanning the room. Sam's started going haywire around a light switch on the wall behind them.
The cover panel was missing, some sort of thick black viscous matter leaking from it. "What's that?" Sam leaned closer, pressing a finger to the goo. "Holy crap." His voice was shocked.
Dean touched a thumb to the tacky goop, holding it up for a closer look. "That's ectoplasm..." He said seriously. "Well, Sam, I think I know what we're dealing with here." They slowly raised their eyes to stare at each other. "It's the Stay-Puff Marshmallow Man." He gave a cocky little smirk when delivering the punch line.
Sam shook his head at Dean's lame joke. "De I've only ever seen this stuff like twice...You have to be one majorly pissed off spirit to make this shit." Dean nodded in agreement. Now wasn't a good time for jokes. They needed to work fast. There was no sign that Jo had been there. Chances were they had beat her to the punch. If everything went right they could solve the case and slip out before she arrived. Two birds one stone. She would be safe, no having to deal with past events. Sam locked the door behind them as they snuck back out of the apartment.
They walked casually down the hall side by side. Dean purposely letting his elbow bump into Sam's before nonchalantly allowing the backs of his fingers to brush against Sam's. Sam's lips wearing a broad smile as he let his own linger against Dean's. Neither one taking the others hand in their own. Simply allowing the briefest of touches. The kind that sends a jolt of excitement straight to the pleasure part of the brain. Until voices could be heard down the hallway ahead of them.
They attempted to duck back into a doorway to hide only to find the entryway too shallow. They stuck out like sore thumbs. The only thing they could do was come up with some sort of excuse for being a few feet away from the empty apartment. But with the clock ticking the time to plan was short. The voices seemed to be that of a man and woman and they were drawing closer. "We could always just start making out. Pray they aren't homophobes and that they'll just walk right past?" Dean's suggestion came with a cheeky grin.
"Oh cause that's a perfect plan." Sam's response was sarcastic.
Dean snickered playfully before glancing over his shoulder to see a man rounding the corner at the end of the hall just before his female companion appeared beside him. A petite pretty girl with long blonde hair. Fuck, it was Jo. So much for handling the hunt before she got there. Yet this could work to their advantage. Assuming she didn't hate their guts. Before he could think of what to say she spotted them. She smiled brightly, "There you are honey." She held her arms out as she walked up to them. Dean started to hold out his arms as he plastered on a loving gaze. His hands snapping to his sides as he was sidelined. Jo wrapped her arms around Sam.
"This is my boyfriend Sam and his buddy Dean." She said as she turned to the man.
"Good to meet you. Quite a gal you got here." The man responded, shaking Sam's hand.
"Yeah, she's uh...She's a pistol." Sam said with a chuckle. His eyes drifting up to Dean's to find his brother rolling his eyes in what looked like jealous annoyance.
"So did you already check out the apartment?" Jo asked, looking up at Sam. She nudged the toe of his shoe with her own to draw his gaze to her.
"Wha? Oh yeah. Loved it." Sam's voice was clumsy. As if he wasn't quite paying attention.
The man that accompanied Jo seemed confused. "How did you get in?" He asked.
"It was open," Sam said flatly.
"Now Ed, When did the last tenant move out?" Jo asked before the man could overthink it.
"Oh uh, about a month ago. Cut and run. Stiffed me for the rent." Ed said.
"Well her loss our gain. Cause if Sammy loves it, it's good enough for me." Jo gave a toothy laugh. "We'll take it." She pulled out a huge roll of cash, holding it out to Ed. He took the cash from her with a satisfied smirk.
A while later Jo was watching Dean reassemble his colt. "So...Mom sent you two to babysit me, didn't she?" Her fake smiles replaced with seriousness.
"You shouldn't be here...Your mom's just worried." Dean spoke calmly as he palmed the clip into place. Pulling back on the slide to load the chamber. She glanced over at Sam to find back up. She found none. He simply sat behind them on the sofa, cleaning his own pistol.
"Well, I am. So untwist your boxers and deal with it." She spat back at Dean. The look he gave her held many emotions. Anger at her insult mixed with sorrow.
It wasn't as if he had feelings for the girl. He truly didn't. Yet he couldn't help but blame himself for the current state of things. He'd stupidly flirted with her when they first met as an attempt to forget about Sam. He hadn't thought that she would actually develop a crush on him. Yet whatever Meg had told her about him had to be truly awful. The sense of disgust she held for him was so obvious it cut to the bone. He'd thought of her like the little sister he'd never had. Now she hated him.
The fact that she seemed fine with his brother meant it wasn't his relationship with Sam. He shivered at the thought. That meant it was something worse. "Dean, I know demons lie. But do they ever tell the truth too?" The memory rang loudly in his skull. Fuck that demon bitch. What the fuck did she say? He breathed a sigh of relief when his cell phone rang, Thunderstruck breaking the awkward silence.
He stood quickly, spinning around before pulling the phone from his pants pocket. "Yeah?" He said as he held it up to his ear. "Oh, Hi Ellen."
The voice on the other line could be heard saying, "Is she with you?"
Jo was on him. Pointing in his face. The two of them whispering an argument that Sam couldn't make out before Dean gave in. "I haven't seen her, must not have made it here yet."
Ellen could be heard giving a deep sigh of relief. "Well when she shows up you'll be sure to drag her ass here won't you?"
Dean laid the charm on thick. "Yeah, sure thing." She must have bought it because she replied with a thank you before hanging up. Jo smiled in victory. Dean shoved the phone back into his pocket. Sam laughed while shaking his head.
Jo and Sam sat around the table in the kitchen area going over blueprints and documents of the building that Jo had used to build a file for the case. Dean glared at the way that Jo over confidently spun a knife in her hand as she began to speak. "This place was built in 1924. It was originally a warehouse, converted into apartments a few months ago.
Dean paced the floor behind her. "Yeah? What was here before 1924?" He asked with slight irritation.
"Nothing, empty field." She replied bluntly.
"So the most likely scenario, Someone died bloody in the building and now he's back and raising hell." Sam's voice was calm as he shifted the papers in his hand.
"I already checked, no violent deaths in the past 82 years," Jo said matter of factly. "Unless you count a janitor who slipped on a wet floor. Would you please sit down?" She barked at Dean.
The boys locked eyes for a moment, Sam's saying a silent apology. Dean's jaw twitched with annoyance but he gave in, pulling out a chair to take a seat. "So, have you checked the police reports, county death records?" He asked.
"Obituaries mortuary reports, and seven other sources. I know what I'm doing." The look she gave Dean was heavy with defiance.
He cracked a sarcastic grin, winking at her as he spoke. "I think the jury's still out on that one." Sam snickered at them. They were so much more alike than they knew. "Would you put the knife down?" Dean's voice was flat, a model example of cool collectiveness. Sam's eyes were darting between the two of them. Jo was death-glaring at a snide faced Dean.
"Ok! So, uh, It's something else then." Sam almost sighed with relief when Jo calmly placed the knife down before both sets of eyes turned on him. "Maybe some kind of cursed object that brought the spirit with it?" He continued.
"We gotta scan the whole building, everywhere we can get to, right?" Jo asked him.
"Right." Dean cut in. "So, you and me will take the top floors." He said with a smile as he stood from his seat.
"We'd move faster if we split up." She spun around in her chair, halting his movement by placing herself in his path.
"Oh, this isn't negotiable," Dean said seriously. She sighed heavily. Knowing from the stern seriousness in his eyes there was no way she could argue her way out of it. Sam finally sighed with relief as he watched the two of them walk out of the apartment. The tension between them could only end badly.
"So, are you gonna buy me dinner?" Jo asked flatly. They were walking down a hallway holding out an EMF detector with Dean close on her heels.
"What're you talking about?" Dean looked at her with confusion.
"It's just if you're gonna ride me this close, it's only decent to buy me dinner." She spat out at him with a smirk.
"That's hilarious. It's bad enough I lied to your mom. You think I'm letting you out of my sight, Don't know if you noticed but you're kind of the spirit's type."
"Exactly." She said as they round the corner of the hall.
He sped up slightly to step in front of her. "Wait you wanna be bait?"
"It's the quickest way to draw it out and you know it." She seemed taken back by his sarcastic chuckle. "What?"
"I'm so regretting this." He walked off just a few steps ahead of her, halting when she finally snapped at him.
"You know I've had it up to here with your crap." She held her hand above her head dramatically. "Just cause some demon in Sam's body was able to trick me doesn't mean women can't do the job, Dean."
"Sweetheart this ain't gender studies. Women can do the job just fine. Amateurs can't. You got no experience. Which is why that demon got the best of you. You're lucky I showed- You know what forget it." She was giving him that look again. Disgust and confusion, attraction mixed with the inability to understand something. To understand him. "Jo you got options. No one in their right mind chooses this life. My dad started me in this when I was so young...I wish I could do something else."
"But you love the job." She smiled.
"Yeah, but I'm a little twisted." He said with a laugh. This was good. They were getting somewhere, finding a common ground to let go of whatever ill feelings she was holding onto.
"A little?" She sneered, trying to get under his skin. To punish him for whatever it was he supposedly did, according to some demon. "That's an understatement."
"Excuse me?" Dean couldn't think of anything better to say. Regardless of whatever Meg made up about him, the fact still remained that she barely knew him. "You know I'm getting really sick of this shit. So why don't you just tell me why you don't like me so we can move on." He braced himself for the truth. "What kinda bullshit did that bitch make up that's given you such a hate-on towards me?"
"Stop it, Dean. I don't want to talk about it. Let's just finish the hunt." She tried to sidestep him. He held fast in her way.
"Look we both know that you know about me and Sam so, let's not pretend. Jo just tell me." She hesitated, he stared down at her waiting. He wasn't going to let this go. Not after finally working up the courage to confront her about it.
"Fine." She sighed. "It's not that you're gay. Although I wish you would have told me before you let me think I had a chance. It's just...He's your brother Dean. It's not right. And what you're doing to him is wrong. You're hurting him. And-" Dean cut her off mid-sentence. His fists were clenched so tightly at his sides that the EMF detector in his hand threatened to shatter from the pressure.
"We know it's not right. But it's us. I guess it's what happens when you live on top of each other for so long like we did. And if you don't like it that's fine. We understand. But don't you ever fucking assume that you know me. I would never hurt my brother. Sam is everything to me. How dare you." His voice held a deep fierceness.
"It said you were a sadist. That you force Sam. That you're rough and you hurt him." She seemed shocked. Like prey backed into a corner. Re-thinking everything she thought she knew.
"However rough me and my brother like to fuck is none of your business. I don't force him. Never had to, never will. Now, are we done?" He was angry. Both at her and Meg. Fucking demons and their sick obsession with his sex life. Yet it wasn't her fault. Jo was young. She'd never dealt with the way demons manipulate you with words. "Look, Jo, you got a mother who worries about you. She wants more for you. Those are good things. You don't throw things like that away. They might be hard to find later."
She gave him an apologetic smile. Full of the warmth she used to gaze upon him with. She may not hate him anymore, yet now it seemed that her schoolgirl crush seemed to be working its way back. They progressed down the hallway. Spreading out from each other a bit to scan the area for EMF readings. Dean stepped just around the corner at the end of the hallway. Suddenly he heard her jump and gasp in shock. He darted back around to find her looking around the area. A bit shaken but ok. "You ok?" He asked just to make sure.
She shook her head with a sigh. "I'm not sure." Her voice cracked a bit. He stepped closer to her, looking around the room. There was a strange smell in the air.
"You smell that?" He asked. She sniffed but couldn't pick out the scent he was talking about.
"What is it, a gas leak?"
"No, it's something else. I know it. I just can't put my finger on it." As he looked around the room the detector in her hand started to click, picking up a small reading. She slowly lowered down to her knees. The readings flying into the red, causing the detectors alarms to blare as she held it in front of an air vent near the floor. "Mazel tov, you just found your first spirit." He said with a smile.
He kneeled down beside her. Pulling a flashlight and a screwdriver from his coat pocket. He held the light just inside the vent opening so he could see inside. "There's something in there. Here," He handed her the flashlight before sliding down so that he could reach deeper into the hole. She leaned in with the light, just a bit to close for his liking. His face was cringing. She backed off just a bit. "No, It's not you...its." He pulled out what he'd found. A mass of blonde hair, chunks of scalp still attached. "Someone's keeping souvenirs." He threw the chunk of hair back inside the vent as fast as he could with a disgusted, "Ugh." Replacing the cover before they hurried back to the apartment.
Sam was still seated at the kitchen table looking through the paperwork. "Glad to see you two worked it out." He said from behind one of the papers. Jo rolled her eyes, walking over to the refrigerator to pull out three beers as Dean moved to stand behind Sam. Popping the caps off of them she handed one to each of the boys. All three took a long swing from their bottle before settling in at the table. As Dean explained what they'd found to Sam, Jo once again started playing with the knife. Dean placed his chin on the top of Sam's head, feeling the need to touch in some way. He watched her turning the knife with amusement. "Come on Sammy, I'm beat. We drove all day. I wanna lay in that nice big tub before we pass out." He gripped Sam's hand, pulling him up from the table. Beginning to make his way towards the one bedroom in the apartment.
Sam smiled. He'd seen the way Dean's eyes had lit up when they'd first checked the place out earlier that day. There was a huge jacuzzi bathtub in the bathroom and he knew Dean had thought about fucking in it. "Uh, what do you think you're doing?" Jo said from the table with a giggle. The Winchester's turned to look over their shoulders.
"Uh...I do believe people call it taking a bath and going to sleep?" Dean said sarcastically.
"Fine take your bath. But the bed is mine." Jo sneered at him.
"No way! Me and Sammy sleep together, always." Dean protested like a child.
"Not my problem, I paid for it. My bed." She took another sip of her beer.
Sam squeezed Dean's hand in his own. Letting his fingers gently brush the skin of Dean's own in a comforting way as they became intertwined. "De she's a girl. We can't make her sleep on the couch. We can make a pallet on the floor. Come on, let's get you that bath. I might still have some bubble bath from the hotel in Atlantic city in my bag." Sam smiled warmly at him. Dean sighed in defeat as he allowed his brother to pull him off towards the bedroom.
The next morning Dean shifted uncomfortably onto his stomach on the recliner. Still clad in his jeans and a red button up from the night before. They'd driven off from Bobby's so fast he'd forgotten to pack his sleepwear. The sounds of a siren wailing outside woke him from his un-peaceful slumber. He rolled over to see Jo sitting at the kitchen table. "Morning Princess." She said in a teasing tone.
"Where's Sam?" He groaned out huskily. Rolling his eyes when he noticed she was once again twirling around her small pocket knife.
"Went to get coffee." She looked down at the paperwork in front of her. He groaned as he sat up. Mumbling out a complaint about his back hurting. The hardwood floor had proven to be far too hard to sleep on. In the end, he'd grunted out inaudible complaints as he'd sprawled out on the couch before patting his lap to signal for Sam to join him. Except when Sam crawled up to lay down on top of Dean the boy's height had been the next issue. They'd had to switch places and fall asleep with Dean laying on top of Sam. It worked up until Dean found himself lying on the floor in the early morning. Cold from Sam's missing body heat. Sam had shifted onto his side on the couch which left Dean only able to find a soft surface in the recliner. He'd slept like garbage, alone and tossed aside.
"How'd you sleep on that big, soft bed?" He rose from the chair, rubbing his pained lower back.
"I didn't." She said without looking up. The look he gave her said it all. She seriously made a fuss about the bed so they couldn't use it and ended up not even pulling back the blankets. Bitch. "I've just been going over everything." She twirled the knife in had haphazardly.
He sighed as he reached over to pick up his duffel bag. Slamming it down onto the table. Pulling open the zipper and reaching in to reveal a large hunting knife nestled inside its sheath. He pulled it free of its cover flipped it in the air, catching the blade in his hand before holding it out to her with a "Here."
"What's this for?" She took the blade from him, looking it over before meeting his gaze.
"It'll work a hell of a lot better than that little pigsticker you've been twirling around." He'd meant it as a kind gesture. Yet her face was sad as she held out her small blade for him to take. He held it up with a puzzled look. The letters W.A.H. were etched into the blade.
"William Anthony Harvelle." She said, her voice soft with sadness.
"I'm sorry. My mistake." He held it out for her to take back.
"What do you...What do you remember about your dad?" She asked with a blank expression. "I mean what's the first thing that pops into your head?" He shook his head, brushing off her question. "Come on. Tell me."
He stared at her seriously, waiting to see if she was truly going to force him to talk about the sore subject. The smile faded from her lips yet she still held on. His eyes averted her gaze, looking to the side then down to the floor. His teeth scraping across the soft plumpness of his bottom lip as he worked up the strength to talk about it. "I was 6, maybe 7 and, uh... He took me shooting for the first time." He pulled out a chair from the table, taking a seat. "Bottles on a fence kinda thing. I bulls-eyed every one of them. And he would smile like..." His voice trailed off. His own smile faded as he hesitated.
"He must have been proud." She said with a nod of reassurance.
He scoffed. "I don't say it to Sam. But I'll never forgive myself for the way I talked to him the last time I saw him. He couldn't take it...Me and Sam. We should never have let him go. Maybe he'd still. Forget it. What about your dad?" His eyes slowly rose to meet hers again.
"I was still in pigtails when my dad died. But...I remember his coming home from a hunt. He'd burst through the door like Steve Mcqueen or something. And he'd sweep me up in his arms. And I'd breath in that old leather jacket of his. And my mom...who was sour and pissed from the moment he left would just start smiling again. We were...a family." Dean smiled at her warmly, taking it in as if he could see it. "You wanna know why I wanna do the job?" She asked with stern seriousness. "For him. It's my way of being close to him. Now tell me what's wrong with that?" She asked though it was more of a statement than a question.
"Nothing." He replied softly.
Sam burst through the door. Both of them turning to look at him. "Where's the coffee?" Dean asked, taking note of Sam's empty-handedness.
"There are cops outside. Another girl disappeared." Sam said while trying to catch his breath.
Sometime later Dean re-entered the room after finding out what he could about the last girl to disappear. "Theresa Ellis, apartment 2-F." He said as he closed the door behind him. Sam and Jo were sitting at the table, turning to face him as they listened to his words. "Her boyfriend reported her missing around dawn."
"And her apartment?" Jo asked as he rounded the table to stand across from them.
"Cracks all over the plaster, walls, ceiling. There's ectoplasm too." Dean's face was serious, all business.
"Between that and the tuft of hair, I'd say it's coming from the walls," Sam said as he glanced down at the papers in front of him.
"But who is it? Buildings history is totally clean." Dean said calmly.
They were at a loss. Nothing seemed to add up. But one thing was for sure. They had to figure it out before another victim turned up. Jo picked up one of the pictures on the table. "Maybe we're looking in the wrong place." She spoke softly as she stared at the photo.
"What do you mean?" Dean asked, his eyes shifting from Sam's up to hers.
"Check this out." She handed the photo over to Sam. He turned it in hand as Dean leaned in closer to him for a better view. Or perhaps it was just to be closer. Jo didn't know one way or the other. But she was sure of the fact that the Winchester brothers moved like one fluid being. As if they were each other's center of gravity, Pulling together like magnets. Something she hadn't seen in the slightest the first time they had met.
The old photo showed an empty lot surrounded by buildings. "An empty field?" Sam asked in confusion.
"It's where this building was built. Take a look at the one next door." She paused. "The windows."
Suddenly something stood out to the boys that they hadn't noticed before. "Bars," Sam said.
"We're next door to a prison?" Dean asked.
It didn't take long for Jo to find the place with the help of Sam's laptop. "Ok!" She perked up. Rousing the boy's attention from across the kitchen. They had been speaking in such a whisper that she hadn't overheard their conversation yet she knew it must have been intimate from the gentle ways they had let their fingertips brush against each other's arms and sides as they moved about. Making a sort of ballet out of grabbing a bottle opener as well as beers from the refrigerator. She cleared her throat. The action causing them to stand about two feet apart.
"Moyamensing Prison. Built in 1835, torn down in 1963. They used to execute people by hanging them in the empty field next door." She ignored the way they had seemed to move back together without noticing. Now standing so close their elbows touched.
"Well then, we need a list of all the people executed there," Sam said with a sigh. She clicked the mouse pad twice before the printer next to her roared to life, spitting out a small stack of papers.
"Already on it." Her tone sounded pleased. Sam smiled, she'd done well.
Sam's eyes scanned the list. "157 names..." He sighed.
"We gotta narrow that down." Dean leaned over him, his arm snaking its way across Sam's back to gently rub the area between his shoulder blades. "Or else we're gonna be digging up a hell of a lot of stiffs."
Sam's eyes drifted down the list. His brow furrowing as he stopped on a name. "Herman Webster Mudgett?" He seemed to be searching his memory.
"Yeah?" Jo prompted from beside him.
"Wasn't that H.H. Holmes' real name?" He turned to Dean. The older brother's smirk was sarcastic. "You gotta be kidding me." Dean's voice was amazing. He took the computer from Jo as the boys sat down at the table with her. He clicked away on the keyboard, bringing up an old newspaper article.
"Yeah, Holmes was executed at Moyamensing May 7, 1896." His voice was full of excitement.
Sam was shaking his head in disbelief. "H.H. Holmes himself. Come on. What are the odds?"
Jo was staring blankly at them. "Who is this guy?" She asked in confusion.
"The term "Multi-Murderer" They coined it to describe Holmes. He was America's first serial killer. Before anybody knew what a serial killer was." Dean answered her.
"Yeah, He confessed to 27 murders but some thought the death tolled at over 100." Sam chimed in. The two of them beaming like kids in a candy store.
"And his victim flavor of choice, pretty petite blondes." Dean was smiling. "He uh, used chloroform to kill them. Which is what I smelled in the hallway last night." His expression turning to realization. He paused, glancing up at Jo before continuing. "At his place cops found human remains. Bone fragments, and long locks of bloody blond hair."
She looked a bit creeped out. "We just gotta find the bones. Salt and burn them, right?"
"Well, it's not that easy. His body is buried in town. But it's encased in a couple tons of concrete." Sam replied.
"What? Why?" Her eyes narrowed together.
"The story goes that he didn't want anybody mutilating his corpse. Cause you know, it's what he used to do." Dean smirked at the irony of his words.
"You know something..." Sam paused his sentence, giving a chuckle. "We might have an even bigger problem than that.
"How does this get bigger?" Jo's expression was overwhelmed.
"Holmes built an apartment building in Chicago." Sam pointed at one of the photos on the table in front of her. "They called it the murder castle. The whole place was a death factory. They had trapdoors, acid vats, quicklime pits. He built these secret chambers...inside the walls. He'd lock his victims in. Keep them alive for days. Some he'd suffocate. Others he'd let starve to death."
"So Theresa could still be alive. She could Be inside these walls." Jo's words were urgent.
"We need sledgehammers, crowbars. We gotta smash these walls anywhere thick enough to hide a girl." All three were already out of their seats before Dean could even finish his sentence.