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Chapter five; Broken Message

"So, what were you saying earlier?" Dean asked as he shoved a hamburger into his mouth. Sam looked at him disgustedly. "About the guy at the loony bin…"

"Dean…" Sam scolded, but he had a smile on his face. "Oh, um, well he was crazy." Sam explained. Dean frowned.

"Yeah Sam, that's the whole reason he was there." Dean whispered. He reached across the table to feel Sam's forehead. "You feeling all right?" Sam hit his hand away.

"I'm fine, dude. Let me finish my sentences." Sam said with a smile. "He told me that I couldn't stop my family from dying… Dean with that and what Tracey said to you… I'm worried, man." Dean shrugged.

"Hey, look at me." Dean said in a low voice. Sam looked at him and they held each other's gaze. "Nothing is going to happen." Dean assured him. "We'll take care of this like we would anything else." He stood up. "I'm gunna take a piss then we're going to the library."

STORM LAKE—LIBRARY

"What are you searching?" Dean asked and looked over Sam's shoulder. Sam sighed heavily, he really disliked that rude habit that Dean had of always looking over his shoulder.

"Any murders or suicides in the area…" Sam pointed to one. "The Elizabeth Walton one might be something. She jumped out of her window after…" Sam paused.

"After what?" Dean asked. Sam smiled to himself, didn't Dean know how to read?

"After her lover, an accused witch, Alana Gold, was burned at the stake." Sam explained. "Two nights after her death, Elizabeth's husband was found dead, a heart carved into his chest."

"Heart?" Dean asked. Sam nodded.

"Um, it says here that when her body was found, Elizabeth had cut two half hearts on her wrists." Sam looked at Dean. "What?" Dean swallowed.

"We found our bitch." He whispered.

STORM LAKE—PSYCHIATRIC WARD

"What are we doing back here?" Sam whispered as they walked down the hall towards the familiar room. Dean looked at him.

"Tracey mentioned something about a heart… I want to see if the names Elizabeth Walton or Alana Gold ring any bells." Dean explained. Sam paused outside the door. "You want to wait outside?" Sam nodded slowly. "Okay." Dean was suspicious, but he was in a hurry so he didn't press for questions.

DEAN

He walked straight to Tracey's bed. She was sitting "crisscross applesauce" on the bed, coloring with crayons. Soft, waxy crayons. Dean guessed those were the only things safe enough.

"Hi Tracey, remember me?" Dean asked softly and sat on the chair next to her bed. She nodded without looking up.

"You're not dead, yet." She said with a small smile. "That's good."

"Look Tracey, I know you're not crazy." Dean whispered. Tracey dropped the red crayon in her hand and looked at him slowly. Her eyes were glassy and she was clearly insane. "Do the names Elizabeth Walton and Alana Gold mean anything to you?" She suddenly cowered in fear and grabbed her pillow to hug tightly.

"Did you see her, too?" Tracey asked, tears in her eyes. "That's who killed Brady."

"Elizabeth?" Dean asked, scooting closer to the bed. Tracey shook her head and buried her face in her pillow.

"The witch did." She whispered as she raised her head slowly. "Because Joy loved me… but we were with Brady…" She looked left to right as if someone was going to be listening… perhaps someone was. "He heard whispering and then he flew across the room. I mean, how else could he have gotten from the door to the window that fast?"

"Tracey, do you know why Alana killed Brady? Why did she choose you three?" Dean asked softly.

"Isn't it obvious?" Tracey asked. Dean just stared. Tracey laughed softly, she was hysterical. "Joy, she thought she was a witch…" She smiled. "I thought she was crazy." She laughed again and looked around her. "And I'm the one in the crazy bin." Dean smiled softly. "Alana is helping her fellow witches." Tracey explained. Before Dean could even blink, she was holding his hand. "Dean, you and your brother have to be careful. You can't trust everyone." She sighed and let his hand go.

"Tracey… but how did Alana bring you and Joy together?" Dean asked softly. Tracey looked at him.

"We'll be together when I die." She whispered. "That's why I'm here. No matter where I am, something tries to kill me. They have me pegged as insane. Dean, she's trying to finish the job."

"I won't let that happen." Dean assured her. She grabbed his hand again. Dean could feel the wax remnants of crayons caked onto her fingers. Her hands were shaking that way over medicated shake.

"Dean… you have to be careful." She whispered. He nodded.

"I always am."

"Be careful of your brother." She whispered. Dean was about to answer, but something distracted him.

"No! No!" They heard someone moan. Dean whirled around and saw the old man in the corner of the room thrashing around on his bed. It was the same one Sam had been talking to.

"Dean!" Sam yelled, he had his head in the doorway. He was clutching his head with one hand, and his other was on the doorknob for balance. Dean looked at the old man and then at his brother. "Come on!" Sam hissed. Dean got to his feet.

Sam blinked and then the ground came up to meet him.