"It's noon," Jaydin reported as she stared out the window into the parking lot, "it's noon, and I'm so bored that I can't feel my brain."
"It's noon," Dean agreed as he flipped through his father's journal, "it's noon and you're still grounded, no matter how much you complain."
"That rhymed."
"So?"
"My mind needs to be stimulated."
"Read a book, then."
"Books are for school."
"Count the cracks in the wall."
"What room do you think this is," Jaye scoffed, "1408? There aren't any cracks in the wall."
Dean shrugged. "Make up a story in your head."
"What kind of story?"
"I dunno," he muttered between clenched teeth, starting to get annoyed, "what kind of story do you want to make up?"
"Once upon a time," the teenager began, "there was an evil king who kept his daughter locked up in a crappy motel room while they waited for her uncle to call and tell them where to pick up a magic gun that would kill an evil dragon. When the call didn't come, the princess went all 'Shining' on the king and hacked him up into little pieces with a coquet mallet. The moral of the story? Grounding your children will turn them into killers."
"It wasn't a croquet mallet, it was a roque mallet, and you won't be killing anybody." He tossed the journal to her, "read up on exorcisms. Just don't lose my place. I've got the one we need marked."
Jaye rolled her eyes as she slumped down onto the floor by the window and cracked open the journal. "Dude," she exclaimed after a few minutes of squinting at a page, "your dad wrote like freakin' Yoda!"
Dean grinned as the door opened and Ellen walked in with a greasy bag of food in her hands. "I can't believe you're making us eat this again," she muttered as she set the food down on the table, "if the demon doesn't get us, the clogged arteries will."
"That's optimistic," Dean quipped as he helped spread the food out on the table.
"That's medical science."
"In a couple of years they'll be able to keep people alive forever. So carpe diem and stuff your face."
"It's a wonder you're not taken," Jaye grinned, sliding into a chair and tossing the journal onto one of the beds.
"I really could add another week to your boredom sentence," her father threatened, smiling.
Jaye ducked her head to hide a grin and pulled a greasily-wrapped burger a little closer to her seat. "Yes, sir."
Dean grabbed a container of fries and had only just popped a handful into his mouth when his phone started to ring on the dresser. Wiping salt off his hands, he stood up and crossed the room, picking up the phone and checking the caller id. "It's Sam."
The room fell silent as he flipped the phone open. "Hello?"
"Dean," the voice on the other end muttered, sounding genuinely relieved, "man, it's great to hear your voice."
"Same here. You got it?"
"Yeah," Sam replied, "the thing handed it over when I asked. It dared me to shoot it right then and there, but it promised that if I missed it would… do some things. I got the gun, though."
"Great, and you can get away?"
"Sure thing. I was thinking that we could meet up around six this evening in that old lot where you made the trade. Sound good?"
"Sounds perfect," Dean grinned, "and don't worry. We're not totally winging it. We'll get you out."
"Good," Sam sighed, "good, because this… this isn't working for me. Look, the thing stepped out for a minute to do some recon or something, but it'll be back. I can't take too long here. See you at six?"
Dean nodded. "Six it is. Don't worry, Sammy, we'll get you back."
"Never doubted that."
The line clicked and went dead. Stuffing his phone in his pocket, relieved that nothing too bad had happened to his little brother, Dean turned to face Jaye and Ellen. "The abandoned lot we made the trade in," he reported, "six o'clock tonight. Let's get ready."
o0o0o0o0o
"Are you sure this is sanitary?" Jaydin asked as she sat cross-legged on the floor, watching as her father surrounded her with salt.
Dean shrugged. "Nothing's ever sure, kiddo." He walked over to the duffle and pulled out another carton of salt before going back to carefully covering up the lines he'd painted on the motel carpet.
"You really think this'll keep me safe?" She asked.
"Of course. The salt should keep out most of the creeps working for this thing, and on the off-chance that it decides to take vengeance into its own grimy claws, the Devil's Trap will keep it away. You'll be fine."
Jaye sighed, glancing out the window to the car, where her mother was sitting and skimming over the exorcism. "Will you?"
"What kind of question is that?"
"Come on, dad. There's still time. We can head home and pretend this whole thing never happened."
"I told you before, Jaye, I'm not gonna leave your uncle with that thing."
"Why not?"
"Because it's wrong. Because he's my brother. Because saving him is the right thing to do. Because he deserves a chance to live his life. Do want me to keep going, because I can. Which is another reason."
She smirked. "Wouldn't it be because you can't?"
Dean rolled his eyes. "I'm going to leave and when I come back your uncle's gonna be with me. No arguments. You stay in that spot until then, you got it?"
"Stay inside the magic salt," she nodded, "got it."
"Good." He grabbed the duffle and threw it over his shoulder, glancing back into the room as he opened the door and walked out into the warm evening air and towards his car.