Dean, wearing nothing but a pair of flannel pants and an undershirt, laid a hand on Jason's shoulder as they watched the police car drive out of the motel parking lot. "Don't worry about it, kid," he said. "That cop was an ass."
"He sounded like he suspected me of something," Jason said. "I'm not worried, though... I'm still in shock. I've never seen a dead body, except for like at funerals and stuff."
"Well," said Jo from over by the Impala. "If you want to be a Hunter, you're going to have to get used to death and blood. We deal with that kind of stuff almost every day."
"I know," Jason said. He looked back at Jo evenly. It was cold outside, and he shivered. "Who are you again?" he asked, shrugging out from under Dean's hand.
"My name's Jo. I was probably the last person to see that guy alive. He gave me the key to Room 3 at 1:00 last night... well, I guess it was this morning. He wasn't too happy about it, but he did it. And now he's dead."
"Dean, do you think the axeman did it? Do you think its axe killed the motel owner?" asked Jason. Sam, who stood next to Jo, looked at the kid in surprise. Why did people always seem to want to talk to Dean? Especially this kid. He obviously had a lot more in common with Sam, but he chose to ask Dean questions, when Sam was obviously the smarter of the two.
"I don't know, Jason," Dean said truthfully. "I don't think so... If this thing wanted to kill me last night, it would have. Instead, it... I don't even know what it did. I don't think its axe was capable of killing someone."
"How are you feeling, Dean?" asked Jo, looking concerned.
"Better, I guess, but I still feel empty," Dean answered, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
"It's too bad they're closing the motel," Sam said. "Now we're going to have a hard time getting rid of this spirit."
"Sammy, Sammy, Sammy," Dean said. "You know there are always ways around the caution tape."
"What do you mean?" Jason asked. Sam and Dean shared a look of mild annoyance; the kid was a novice, and answering questions constantly was getting to be difficult.
"You could say Sammy and I like to play dress-up," said Dean.
"OK then," said Jo, averting her eyes. She ran a hand over the Impala's roof. "Nice car you boys have."
"You mean nice car, Dean. Ain't she a beauty?" Dean said, looking at his car with an expression of misty-eyed adoration..
"Yeah," Jason said, walking over to the car. He shivered as he touched the Impala's black finish, for the evening snow had left the surface of the car extremely cold. "What year is she?"
"A '67," Dean said, grinning.
"Nice," Jason said. He looked at the car for a moment longer and then turned to Sam. "So what's the next step?"
"Dean and I pack up our things and find another place to stay for the next few days. We don't have to be back here tonight, because there have only been sightings every other day, so we can chill for a while. Jason, do you know any place where we can crash?" Sam responded.
"Well, I'd let you stay at my place, but I don't know how my folks would take that. There's a Holiday Inn down the street that probably has vacancies for tonight. No one ever visits Arkansas in the winter, especially not our town."
"Thanks, man," Dean said. "Sammy get your number?"
"Yeah," Sam said, patting the cell phone in his pocket.
"Good. Then we'll call you when we need your help. For now, go home and do whatever it is you kids do at home alone," Dean said. Jason nodded, shook the hands of the two brothers, got in his car, and drove away.
"Let's blow this popsicle joint," Dean said. The brothers walked into Room 7. Jo followed uncertainly, having already packed her bags earlier that morning. Sam picked up the can of Febreze from the counter and gave the room a good long spray, because the scent of cigarette smoke and sex had come back. "Thanks," Jo said. "This place reeked."
"I know," Dean said.
He felt a pain in his chest and sat down on the bed to rest. Sam took their clothes out of the drawer-less dresser and stuffed them back into the suitcase.
He said, "Jo, would you mind bringing this suitcase out to the Impala? I'll carry these other two bags."
"What's in them?" Jo asked without thinking. Dean stood up and shuffled over to one. He unzipped it partway and showed her the glint of metal inside. Her eyes opened wide and she uttered a small "Oh."
Dean nodded. "Just a little extra protection. Never know when a creepy little girl with no eyes is going to show up."
Jo smiled and left the room, suitcase in tow. When the door closed behind her, Dean stopped standing up so tight. The smile fell off his face. "Dude..." he sighed.
Sam just shook his head and picked up the two bags full of guns, crossbows, and knives. He grunted under their weight but managed to make it out the door to the Impala. He took the keys out of his jacket pocket and opened the trunk for Jo, who put the suitcase in first and then hoisted one of the other bags onto her shoulder. "I'll keep this in my car," she said.
"I don't know," Sam said. "It's fine here."
"You're going to deny a girl a gun?" Jo said with a smile.
"You can have a gun, just don't take the whole damn bag," Sam said, getting annoyed.
"Never mind then," Jo said with a frown. She stowed the bags in the trunk and closed it. "Meet you boys in town later for a drink?"
"Sure," Sam said, hands in the pocket of his jacket. He looked at her for a minute, waiting for her to say something.
For a minute there was nothing but silence, and then Jo added, "I'll call you and we can set something up."
"Um, yeah," Sam said. "I'll talk to you then."
Jo got into her rundown car and pulled out of the parking spot, leaving a trail of exhaust behind her.
Sam walked back into Room 7 and heard the shower running. He powered up the laptop and logged on to the Internet while Dean sang in the shower, searching for axe murders in the area. By the time Dean had finished washing himself and came out of the bathroom with a towel slung low on his hips, Sam had found something.
"Read this," he said. Dean leaned over him, clutching the towel together.
"Local resident hacked to death by axe murderer," he read from the screen. "A dismembered foot believed to belong to Stark County farmer Carl Biggs was found on the site of his farm last Thursday. The coroner's report showed the wound was inflicted by a sharp object such as an axe or a hatchet. The rest of Biggs' body has not been found." He paused and looked at Sam, who was trying not to look at his almost- naked brother. "You think this is our guy?"
"It's dated exactly thirteen months ago," Sam said, swallowing hard. "One year before the first sighting of the axe-weilding kilajh."
The Impala slowed to a stop outside the Holiday Inn's office door. Dean and Sam sat in the car for a while, for it had begun to snow and neither wanted to get out of the car.
"Well, Sammy?" Dean said after a minute or two had passed. "What are you waiting for?"
Sam looked surprised. "What do you mean, what am I waiting for?"
"Go get us a room!" Dean said. "I'll wait with the car."
Sam sighed and unbuckled his seatbelt. He opened the door and got out, calling over his shoulder, "You're waiting IN the car. Not WITH the car."
He shut the door, and Dean scowled. "Don't worry, baby, he didn't mean it."
When Sam opened the door, a bell hung from the doorframe jingled. Sam walked up to the counter and smiled to himself; the girl behind the counter was hot, and Dean would have enjoyed trying to get her number. "Hey," he said.
She looked up from the gossip magazine she was reading and for one horrible moment Sam was sure she was Meg. Then the girl smiled and Sam saw she was just a normal, pretty girl with short blonde hair. "You here to rent a room?" she asked. Sam nodded, and she said, "You all alone?"
"Um, no, I'm not," Sam said. "My brother's with me."
"Is he as good looking as you are?" the girl, whose name was Jenna according to nametag, asked. Sam smiled uncomfortably.
"Not at all," he replied what he hoped was smoothly. "Everyone says I got the looks in the family." It was odd; Sam was normally uncomfortable flirting with girls. But with this particular girl, it came easy.
"Ok," the girl said. "How long do you need your room?"
"Better make it for a week," Sam said. "We're in town on business."
"Oh, you work together?" Jenna asked.
Sam nodded. "You could say that."
The girl typed something into the computer and waited, and Sam heard an electronic ping.
"Ok, you're all set!" the girl said. She took a Post-It note off a pad by the keyboard and scribbled something on it.
There was a jingling sound behind Sam, and he half turned. To his chagrin, he saw Dean coming towards him. He tried to motion to his older brother to back away, to not let the girl see him, but it was no use.
"Hey there... Jenna," Dean said when he reached the counter, reading the girl's name tag so quickly it seemed almost suave. She looked up from the Post-It and grinned.
"Hello. I'll be with you in just a minute," she said.
"Dean," Sam hissed under his breath, looking down at the counter so as not to meet Jenna's eyes.
Dean either didn't hear or didn't care. "Oh, no, we're together. This here's my brother Sammy. My name is Dean, by the way." He held out a hand, which Jenna took. Dean pulled it to his mouth and kissed the back of her hand gently. Jenna giggled.
"So, Sammy," Jenna said, handing him his room key. "I thought you said you were better looking than your brother?"
Dean looked at Sam in surprise. "Yeah, OK," Dean said. Sam rolled his eyes and turned around, leaving the office in a huff.
"Well," Jenna said, smiling at the man in front of her. "Since he's not here, I guess I'll give this to you." She handed Dean the Post-It and their room key.
"Thank you!" Dean said, walking back to where he'd left the Impala. On the way, he read what the girl had written on the Post-It. With a grin he realized it was her number.
Five minutes later Dean was stumbling around the parking lot, looking for his beloved Impala. It was still snowing, and he was really cold. His lips had a slight blue tint to them. When he had come out of the hotel office, his car was nowhere to be seen. "Sammy!" he shouted, clutching his chest. "This isn't funny." There was no answer. "Sammy!"
Dean sighed, coming around the corner of the hotel back to the front. He'd now walked around the entire building. The Impala was gone, and the pain in his chest was starting to worsen.
It was only when it started to ring that Dean remembered he owned a cell phone. He pulled it out of his jacket pocket and looked at the Caller ID. It was Sam.
"Dude, where the hell are you?" Dean said into the phone.
"I'm at the bar across the street. You have to get over here... some drunk just started ranting and raving... he confessed to the murder of Carl Briggs."