"Gin,come on, you cannot be serious about this right?" Dean asked her and folded his arms, reluctant to entertain the idea she was currently chewing on. "We don't investigate Psyche patients— half the time we're the ones they look for to fill the rooms, c'mon it's nothing."
"And Dean, have I been wrong before with my gut on something like this?" Gin shot back with a bit of a glare, but it was soft.
"Yeah, plenty of times like that one time back in Jersey. That Atco drag way—"
"I'm not talking about that! What about that last big case, up in P A? Lorraine, Ed, that poltergeist? Besides its these small town stories that are the juiciest." She grinned and went back to her laptop. "Plus, with Sam off doing his own thing right now—"
"His own thing?" Dean was offended that she even worded it like that. Sam was doing something dangerous, and something he swears can save the world and she just thinks its some kind of book club?
"Don't get your balls in a twist, I know what he's doing, I didn't mean it that way. But sitting here and driving each other crazy is not going to solve a single thing. I have a friend who lives in Haddonfield, in Illinois. She knows this lady, Laurie Strode, kind of a small town celebrity if you can call her that."
Dean gave her a puzzled look, why did she say it like that? Was Laurie the town crazy? Babbling on about ghosts or monsters and that's what she's known for?
"So I looked her up, to see what all of the fuss was about and why she's so known there. Forty years ago, there was a string of murders done by one guy. Michael…" She went through her notes, "Myers. Michael Myers, who, when he was six stabbed his sister to death with the kitchen knife, and he was only six years old at the time. His sister was seventeen years old. They tried him as an adult, because I guess the murder was so bad. Michael went to jail for fifteen years. Then on.." She skimmed her notes again for the next date. "October thirtieth, nineteen seventy eight, he was being transported for a court hearing, escaped and the police lost him for like twelve hours or so? Maybe longer, I didn't find much on that. But end up finding him back at his home town— murdering more people on that same anniversary of his sister's death. Halloween Night."
Dean looked at his phone, "That's tomorrow night. So, why are we doing this? Wasn't he caught again after that, does it say? Or is this psycho still out there? Gin we don't do bounty hunting—"
"I know we don't. But don't you think it's a little strange here? It's a pattern, every fifteen years something happens."
"So this Laurie chick, where does she fall in all of this? What was she like his mother?"
"She's a surviver." Gin told him. "And from what I hear, she's doomsday prepping for this guy to make his next move and come after her. Not sure why. Maybe if I can talk to her—"
"God, see I knew this was another one of your sob stories. Gin, look with all due respect, we have bigger fish to fry. We can't be screwing around with this stuff!" Dean was visibly frustrated now but kept his voice at an even volume, he knew better than to raise his voice at her, because she'd knock it back down a few notches. "We have to find Sam—"
"And we will. But you said it yourself, Sam doesn't want to be found. He's doing those trials, he wanted us to have no part in any of it."
"He could be dead for all we know!" Dean argued.
"You'd know if he was dead, Dean. Crowley would be right here rubbing it in your face. Because that is what that smug mother fucker does. Now if you want to sit here and pace a hole in the floor, by all means, but if I stay in here another day I'll go crazy."
Dean knew Gin well enough that if he stayed here, she'd go alone, and he'd be alone. Alone with his thoughts, alone with the fear that his brother would in fact be found dead somewhere, or worse. And for a Winchester, there are many fates worse than death. "Okay. But then we get right back to trying to find Sam."
He was acting like she didn't care about Sam. She loves Sam. Though, Dean didn't know about her and Sam. They had been getting closer, sneaking into one another's rooms in the middle of the night, and going back to their own beds before Dean would wake up. Not that either of them ashamed of sleeping together, but per Sam's advice, for right now, it was best to keep it under wraps. According to his brother, Dean can blow things out of proportion and he'll gnaw at that bone until not a splinter is left. The fact that Sam was gone, and he didn't even tell her where he was made her terrified. And if she was left with that for much longer and nothing else on her brain, it would be a quick spiral into madness.
"So why does your friend want you there? Us— I mean." Dean then asked to break the silence.
"I dunno, but she seemed pretty insistent on having us there before Halloween. So we need to leave very soon." Gin told him. "I think she wants us on the inside? To make sure Mike doesn't escape again or something?"
"Sell, we've played cops and robbers before, so I guess that'll be easy enough."
"So who's gonna be the cop, and who's going to be the one chasing butterflies without their clothes on?" Gin laughed and stood up, gathering her laptop to give him a playful backhand on the arm.
