Even if I lose the game, I'm all in
I'm all in tonight, yeah I'm all in, I'm all in for life
There's no taking back
what we've got's too strong,
we've had each other's back for too long
There's no breaking up this time
And you know it's okay, I came to my senses
Letting go of my defences
There's no way I'm giving up this time
And I'm all in, nothing left to hide
PLAYTHINGS
Medical Clinic
Peoria, Illinois
Dean was sitting next to me, fidgeting and looking a little pale. He hadn't shaved in about a week and had the start of a beard growing over his well defined jawline. I grinned, looking at it and running a hand along the hair growing there, I kind of liked it, made him look scruffy, and it was very sexy. It made me kind of want to jump him right then and there, even if it was hardly the time or place.
"So..." The woman, named Jessie, sitting on the other side said to me, "...first time?" She asked, looking over at us both. We nodded silently and bit my lip.
"Don't worry, it doesn't hurt," she said with a smile, she took a bottle of some kind of lubricant and squirted it on my stomach, then taking the wand and smoothing it over my belly. An image popped up on the screen, black and white, and completely making no sense to me. She moved it around until she was happy with what she was seeing and then clicked a button.
A sound came over the speakers on the computer, a rushing swoosh and I stared at the information, appearing on the screen on the wall in front of us.
"Nice strong heart beat," Jessie said to us and I gulped. It sounded like horse hoof beats, fast and rhythmic, as if they were galloping across a plain. It was the most incredible sound I'd ever heard. I glanced across at Dean and if it was possible, I'm sure he'd gone an even paler shade of white. I reached out and squeezed his hand, he looked at me with a smile, lifting my hand to kiss it quickly.
"Wouldn't expect anything less from a Winchester," I said, smiling.
Jessie talked about the photos she was taking, measurements of the foetus, it's length, and head circumference and so on. I wasn't really paying that much attention. I was looking for some kind of a baby and frowned when I couldn't see it.
"There's the brain," she said, circling a section on the screen with her mouse – it just looked like two halves of a circle. I frowned, shaking my head.
"Is something wrong?" Jessie asked and I looked over at her.
"Uhhh, well, I don't know..." I said, looking thoughtful. "Where's the baby?"
Dean leaned forward, looking confused too. "Well... I wasn't gonna say it, but yeah... she has a point... that kind of looks like something out of the slushy machine at the 7/11, or maybe a cashew nut..." he said, deadpan, tilting his head to the side. I licked my lips, salted cashews sounded really good right about now, I shook my head, damn cravings.
Jessie smiled at us and changed a few things on the screen.
"You won't see a lot, particularly since this little one seems to like lying on their side right now. But here..." she seemed to pan out on the screen, to a cross section of my entire uterus. There was a big blob there, indistinguishable from any other kind of a blob. She pointed to a bigger part of it, "...this is the head." I raised my eyebrow and shrugged. Dean shook his head, looking a little awed.
"That blob is a little human being?" He asked quietly.
"That's right," Jessie said, smiling at us both. "We do have to get him or her to turn over so I can get some other readings though, so I'm just going to manipulate your uterus a little if that's ok Beth?" I nodded and she put her free hand on my stomach, pressing in certain positions. I took in a sharp breath at one point, a little bit of a pain shooting through me and she apologised, but kept pushing.
Eventually she got to whatever it was she wanted, removing the hand leaving just the wand.
"Did you want to know the sex?" She asked, looking at us. Dean and I glanced at each other, we hadn't actually talked about it.
"You can tell that already?" He asked with a frown, squinting at the screen. I stared too, mentally rolling my eyes. I couldn't make sense of what I was seeing, it was just like black and white static really. I sat back, contemplating.
Jessie nodded at us, "Sometimes you can, but it would just be preliminary, you'd have a better idea at your twenty week scan – I wouldn't go out and decorate the nursery on it right now."
Dean raised his eyebrow, looking at me with a twinkle in his eye. I snorted, nursery, yeah... ok. Try a motel room, covered in missing persons pictures and notes – which is what our current home for the last month had been, where Sam was right now, still on his relentless hunt for the missing girl, Ava. Jessie looked at us, not getting the joke, a slight frown on her forehead.
"Uh, well I don't know, do you want to know Dean?" I asked, looking over at him.
He considered, and then shrugged at me. "What do you want?" He asked, squeezing my hand. I bit my lip, I was torn. On one hand I hated surprises, but on the other hand, I didn't know if I really wanted to know right now either. Maybe it would make it too real, listening to the heart beat was kind of driving that point home a little too much already.
I swallowed, thinking about my answer. "Can we keep it a surprise for now?" I asked, and she nodded.
"Maybe write it down and seal it, because she's going to change her mind," Dean said and I punched him in the arm playfully.
"Hey!"
He looked at me with an amused expression. "You and your mood swings have been nothing short of phenomenal lately, I'm not getting caught in the middle of another 'I should have...' moment. Nope, I'm gonna be prepared this time," Dean said, nodding and looking pleased with his plans. I shrugged and conceded the point, I had been kind of crazy the last few weeks.
Jessie smiled and wrote something on the back of one of their business cards, taking an envelope out of the desk in the corner and sealing it. She handed it to Dean with a flourish and he pocketed it, grinning. I shook my head with a chuckle. I was already regretting not finding out, but no way was I going to admit that now.
The rest of the scan was routine, and Jessie left ten minutes later, giving us some privacy so that I could get back into my clothes. I had other ideas though, and after I slipped my top over my head again, I turned to sit in Dean's lap, straddling him and kissing along his neck.
"Mmmm," Dean said with a smile, his hands running down my side to grasp my hips. "Isn't this what got us into this situation in the first place?" He murmured as I reached his lips, gently nipping at his lower lip before catching his upper lip between my own, sucking softly at him.
"Not much we can do about that now, might as well enjoy the ride," I said pulling back a little, before starting to kiss him again, rocking against his lap.
Dean hesitated slightly, pulling back and I looked at him, a frown on my face. "What?"
"Uh... well... you know, I'm sure that girl is gonna be back in like five minutes..." He said, raising his eyebrow at me. "And I really need longer than that right now sugarpie..."
I groaned, a little frustrated and silently cursed all these hormones running through my body, it didn't help that just looking at Dean made me want to jump his bones on any given day, adding in the hormones just made it a hundred times worse.
"But Deeean... Sam's been teasing me enough without giving him more ammo by getting another room," I whined, Dean raised his eyebrow at me.
"We never did christen the back of the Impala..." He suggested with a smile.
I smirked, "You know what... we seriously didn't." Suddenly that seemed like such a better idea.
I slid off his lap, pulling on my jeans with a grimace, they were getting a little tighter, but I was refusing so far to go buy new clothes. I knew it was going to have to happen sooner or later, but there was still some part of me in complete denial about the changes that were occurring to my body.
Once we were in the Impala, and heading toward the motel again, Dean started to breathe a little easier. I watched him and the colour starting to return to his face. I chuckled to myself, for Dean, he was handling this whole thing pretty well really. Just the same, I wasn't surprised when he swung into the nearest liquor store.
"You want anything?" He asked, looking over at me.
"Tequila?" I asked, raising my eyebrow. He chuckled and leaned over to kiss me softly.
"I don't think so gorgeous," he said, looking at me. I sighed and shook my head, I was fine.
He was five minutes in the store, and then when we were back on the road, he turned up a road we hadn't explored yet, taking us out of town. He pulled down a few dirt tracks until he was satisfied we were alone.
"You were serious?" I asked, gaping.
"Weren't you?" He asked, looking a little amused. I smiled, chewing thoughtfully on my lower lip, and then my hormones decided that this was a great idea. I nodded and pulled him toward me so that I could climb back onto his lap, like in the clinic without the restriction of the steering wheel..
I ran my thumbs along his bearded chin, my fingers cupping his jaw either side of his face as I kissed him, tilting his head up so I could get a nice deep angle. Closing my eyes, I surrendered to the feel of his lips under mine, the fresh minty taste of his breath – he smelled like Christmas morning and that made me smile. I could feel him smile back under my attentions and I groaned at how intimate and close he felt pressed against me, his hands on my hips. I took my time, drinking him up. It'd been a while since we had a spare moment to just be like this, in the moment, not worrying about the future... the baby, demons, Sam.
Dean groaned, pulling back and then inclining his head toward the back. "Back seat is way more comfy," he said with a grin and I nodded, peeling myself away from him, and climbing out the passenger door. I paused as he followed and opened the back door. He leaned against the side of the car, pulling me to him, running his hands up under my shirt to squeeze my breasts, they had been tender and swollen lately, I'd had to literally go up a cup size with my bras and Dean had made no secret of how sexy he found that.
I moaned at the touch, as his fingers smoothed away the swollen feeling in them, I shuddered at how good it felt. Pressing my thigh in between his legs, I found him hard and ready. I pulled at his jeans, unzipping them and running my hand down into his boxers, brushing against the warmth I found there.
Dean gasped a little sharply at the sudden contact and I pulled away with a grin, sliding into the back seat, pushing the bag that was in the back up against the far door and using it as a pillow. Dean followed me into the car with a hungry look, his hands worked at my jeans and I raised my legs up to help him pull them off me with a smile.
He leaned in to kiss me again, and I pulled at his jacket, sliding it from his shoulders and running my hands under the layers of clothing he was wearing, it was winter, in Illinois, maybe the back seat of the car hadn't been the best idea. Dean pulled the door closed, shutting out the cold and things instantly heated up.
I reached up to kiss along his collar bone, sucking softly at the skin there, before settling into the crook of his neck, licking and nipping, careful not to mark him up though – that was just childish, and a tactic I reserved for when I wanted to mark territory, I grinned at the thought.
Dean paused, pulling back as I started to raise my hips to him, grinding against him slowly. I frowned, opening my eyes and looking up into seas of green which were staring down at me, conflicted.
"What's wrong?" I asked, confused.
Dean swallowed, "Nothing, but uh, exactly how does this work now you're carrying the next line of the Winchester clan?" He asked, his brow furrowing a little.
"Same as it always worked Dean... take part A, insert into part B...and repeat..." He rolled his eyes at me. "What?" I asked, not understanding his hesitation.
"What about the baby?" He asked, genuinely concerned. "Because I was reading online..."
"Wait, you looked this up online?" I asked with a grin, pushing up on my elbows a little to look at him and I swear he blushed.
"Well, you're not the only one with raging hormones cherry-pie," he said with a smirk. I laughed and kissed him again, just once on the lips.
"It's fine Dean, whatever you were reading is an old wives' tale," I said. I'd been doing my own reading on the subject, and when I got no real answers, I'd checked with the doctor. He visibly relaxed and then his expression took on a little more cheek to it, the old Dean returning to the surface.
He leaned over me and started to kiss along my shoulder, working his way along to my neck. "Well thank god for that," he murmured between kisses, "because... while what we were doing the other night..." I smiled a little at the memory, "...was all well and good." He paused and looked at me. "Sometimes I just need a little more of you," and the hunger returned to his eyes as he kissed me with an urgent need, almost drawing the very breath from me as we fell into that familiar space, where we could just be in the moment, together, like it was supposed to be.
Motel Room
We returned to the motel room a few hours later and let ourselves in to the familiar sounds of blues music playing on the radio. We'd found the station a week ago and had been listening to it ever since. The walls were covered in maps, Sam's hand-written notes, and the missing post of Ava that was permanently burned into my retinas I'd looked at it so often. I found myself looking for John's handwriting on the wall, and always felt a little sad when I didn't find it.
I sniffed back tears, thinking about him as I walked through the doors, my heart was overspilling at the moment with love and affection for everything in my life and suddenly it hit me how we were alone, without our dad, and I wished he could be here to see this life growing inside of me.
"Oh boy," Dean said seeing the tears and guiding me to the bed, making me sit down. He reached for one of the many boxes of tissues that sat around the room, kneeling in front of me on the floor. Sam was on the phone but he paused to give us a concerned look.
"OK, might have overdone it, hmmm?" He asked as silent tears started flowing down my cheeks and I looked at him helplessly, wringing my hands and brushing at the tears.
"It's... it's not that. That was great," I said, smiling at him through the tears and flashed back on the last few hours. "Oh that was really great, I needed that... but it's just," and my voice broke again as my emotions flooded from emptiness, to lust, to love and then back to heart broken in the space of a minute. I waved my hand in the air at the walls. "Where are Dad's notes?" I wailed and buried my face in the pillow behind me.
"Ohhh, boy," Dean said, shaking his head and patting me on the back. "Uhhh, Sam, you want to get off the damn phone and help a man out here? Please?"
Sam looked over at us, a sympathetic look on his face. "Yeah, uh, thanks Ellen, I gotta go. Yeah, thanks again," and he hung up, coming over to sit on the other side of the bed.
"Hey, Beth... it's ok you know," Sam said to me, laying a hand on my shoulder, shrugging at Dean. "It's just the hormones," he said to me.
"I know that!" I wailed, sobbing into the pillow. The boys looked on helplessly, still not sure how to deal with one of these meltdowns that were becoming fairly regular lately.
I sniffed and tried to pull myself together, taking one of the tissues Dean was waving about in front of me. It was embarrassing to feel like this, so up and down all the time like I was on a perpetual roller-coaster, I'd cried more in the last month than I had in the entire time I'd ever known Dean and Sam.
"What did Ellen have to say?" I asked Sam, rolling on to my side and dabbing at my eyes, wiping my nose. Sam looked pained, and I wasn't sure if it was because of me or something else.
"Oh, she's got nothing." Sam said matter-of-factly. "And I've been re-checking every database I can think of – federal, state and local. No one's heard anything about Ava, she just vanished into thin air you know?"
I nodded, I knew, we'd been trying to follow the trail, which was only getting colder by the day for almost a month.
Seeing that I'd calmed down a little Dean went and helped himself to one of the beers in the fridge, restocking with the ones he'd bought earlier. I swear he downed half the bottle in one go, I fought back pangs of guilt and secretly feared I was sending him to an early grave with this whole pregnancy.
"What about you?" Sam asked, looking at me. I smiled and sat up against the head board, feeling a little better.
"Good, baby is great, healthy, strong," I said, and there it was, the swing up to the happy region again. Dean shook his head at the sudden mood swing and took another long swig of his beer.
"Well, that's great... I'm glad," Sam said with a smile, and he looked happy too. "I was starting to worry, you guys were gone a while."
Dean and I shared a knowing look and I couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, we had other … things... we had to get done too." Dean said, leaving it at that. Sam nodded, not really concerned about it.
"Well, Ellen did have one thing," Sam said, looking over at Dean.
"Hmm?" Dean asked, curious.
"A hotel in Cornwall, Connecticut. Two freak accidents in the past three weeks," he said, looking back at me.
"Yeah? What's that have to do with Ava?" I asked, instantly intrigued.
"Well, nothing, actually," Sam said with a shrug. "It's a job. I mean, a lady drowned in the bathtub; then a few days ago a guy falls down the stairs, head turns a complete one-eighty. Which isn't exactly normal, you know?" He looked between the pair of us and we frowned.
"Look, I don't know guys, it might be nothing," Sam continued. "But I told Ellen we'd think about checking it out."
"You did?" Dean asked, looking a little surprised. We hadn't exactly been doing any jobs lately because of my emotional roller-coaster ride and the hunt for Ava.
"Yeah, you seem surprised," Sam said, a slight frown crossing his brow.
"Well yeah, it's just, you know. Not the patented Sam Winchester way, is it?" Dean said, finishing off his beer and reaching for another one.
"What way is that?" Sam said, sitting up a little straighter and looking at Dean with a challenge.
Dean shrugged slightly. "I just figured after Ava, there'd be, uh... you know... more angst and droopy music, and staring out the rainy windows, and..."
Sam gave Dean a warning look and Dean fell quiet. "Yeah, I'll shut up now," he said with a chuckle.
"Look. I'm the one who told her to go back home. Now her fiancée is dead and some demon has taken her off to God knows where. You know?" Sam said standing up and talking in a self-flagellating tone, he was still beating himself up over her abduction, blaming himself.
"But we've been looking for a month now, and we've got nothing. So I'm not giving up on her, but I'm not going to let other people die either. We've got to save as many people as we can." And there it was, this new Sam-Winchester-World-Hero attitude that had suddenly come to the surface. We were still getting used to it, we were still getting used to a lot of things, feeling them through as we went.
"Wow. That attitude is just way too healthy for me, and I'm officially uncomfortable now. Thank you," Dean said, tilting his beer in a cheers motion to Sam.
Sam chuckled and looked over at me. I was shaking my head at the pair of them.
"Well?" He asked, seeking my opinion on the matter.
I shrugged. "Well, seems harmless enough," I said, looking over at Dean.
"All right, call Ellen," Dean said, looking at Sam. "Tell her we'll take it."
Pierpoint Inn
Cornwall, Connecticut
The Inn was tudor-style, one of my favourite architectural design features, and sat in amongst an old-growth forest. When we arrived, it was cold, dreary grey, and had just finished raining about an hour earlier, so everything was covered in a thin layer of water. I got out of the car as soon as Dean pulled out the front and took in a deep breath, I loved the smell of the woods, especially after rainfall.
"Dude, this is sweet. I never get to work jobs like this." Dean said, looking appreciatively at the Inn.
"Like what?" I asked him, curious.
"Old school haunted houses, you know? Fog, and secret passageways, sissy British accents like Jefferson's," he said, referring to a hunter friend of the family. "Might even run in into Fred and Daphne while we're inside." He closed his eyes briefly. "Mmm. Daphne. Love her."
I looked at him and bit my lip, not something I wanted to hear right now. Sam noticed the quivering lip and hit Dean upside the head.
"God you're an idiot!" He said, moving around to give me a hug. "He doesn't mean it Beth, in fact, Dean always said how much Daphne reminded him of you." I hugged Sam back and fought back the mood swing. "Right Dean?"
"Yeah, of course," Dean said quickly, coming over to kiss my forehead and pull me out of Sam's arms. "You are my Daphne, you know that," he reassured me, wrapping his arms around my waist. I knew it was total nonsense, but it still made me feel better. I kind of rolled my eyes at myself for feeling so emotionally wound-up, I found myself wishing there was some pill I could take to make it all go away.
The doctor had assured me that it would get better as I entered the second trimester... well I was already in it and there were no signs of it letting up, but I was hoping maybe my body was just late getting to the party, and that it would get with the program soon.
I pulled away from Dean, punching him lightly in the chest and smiling. "Yeah ok, don't overdo it," I said, pulling myself together. Dean grinned and grabbed our bags out of the car, slinging one over his shoulder and holding the other. He put his free arm back around my waist and led me to the door, placing a kiss against my hair. "We'll get our own room, maybe they'll have one with a spa," he said quietly and I smiled, that sounded good but it was doubtful in an old house like this, we'd be lucky if it wasn't communal bathrooms.
We walked up the steps to the door, and Sam paused, looking at something.
"I'm not so sure haunted's the problem," he said, pointing to an urn on the side of the porch.
"What do you mean?" Dean asked, looking back at him.
"You see this pattern here?" Sam asked, tapping a five-point symbol engraved on the urn. "That's a quincunx, that's a five-spot."
I frowned and came over to look at it. "Five-spot... that's used for hoodoo spellwork, isn't it?" I asked.
"Right, yeah. You fill this thing with bloodweed and you've got a powerful charm to ward off enemies," Sam said, looking around.
"Yeah, except I don't see any bloodweed," Dean pointed out. He looked up at the building. "Don't you think this place is a little too, uh... whitemeat for hoodoo?"
"Maybe," Sam shrugged, looking curiously about.
Dean headed back up the steps to the front door and opened it, I trailed along behind him, Sam bringing up the rear. I paused to look at a painting in the outer foyer, it was a reprint of The Madonna Reading, The Angel Gabriel Approaching From The Sky by Carlo Maratta. I loved this portrayal as a snippet into the window of time, right before the Madonna would receive news that would change her life.
"May I help you?" A young woman asked, from behind a desk as Dean and Sam walked past me into the inner foyer.
"Uh, yeah, I'd like a room for a couple of nights," Dean said, he spun around as a little girl went running between him and Sam.
"Hey!" The woman exclaimed at the girl, then apologised to Sam. "Sorry about that."
"No problem," Sam said with a smile.
"Well, congratulations, you could be some of our final guests," the woman said.
"Wow. Sounds vaguely ominous," Dean said uncomfortably, glancing over at Sam.
"No, I'm sorry, I mean we're closing at the end of the month." She said, I saw her give them an appraising look and I smirked, I could see what was coming.
"Well, let me guess. You guys are here antiquing?" She asked. Dean and Sam shared a look and shrugged.
"How'd you know?" Dean asked, going with it.
"Oh you just look the type," she said and I snickered. Dean looked uncomfortable at the idea that he would look anything like someone into antiques.
"So, uh, king-sized bed?" She asked, looking from Dean to Sam.
"What?" Sam asked, surprised. I snickered again and decided to go put them out of their misery. "No, uh, we're, we're … two doubles... we're just brothers."
"Oh. Oh I'm so sorry," the woman said, looking mortified.
"What'd you mean that we look the type?" Dean asked, still stuck on that comment.
I walked into the room and put my arm around his waist, smiling at the woman. "We'll take the king-sized bed, Sam here can have his own room," I said, winking at our little brother. Dean handed her his credit card and the woman nodded, looking down at her ledger.
"You know, speaking of antiques, you have a really, really interesting urn on the front porch," Sam said. "Where did you get that?"
"Oh, I have no idea, it's been there forever," she said, handing back the card to Dean. "Here you go, Mr Mahagov."
The woman hit a bell on the desk, and looked at Dean and I. "You'll be staying in room 237, and your brother is just across the hall in 238." An old balding man appeared wearing a black blazer. "Sherwin, could you show our guests to their rooms?"
"Let me guess," Sherwin said, looking from Sam to Dean, seeming to ignore me. "Antiquers?"
The old man took Dean's duffel and started to drag it along the floorboards, Dean cringed, watching as he pulled it behind him, it clunked loudly up each step as we proceeded to the second level of the house. I took a moment to be thankful that it was Dean's duffel, and that mine was safely hoisted over Dean's shoulder, at least my glass candle wasn't going to end up broken.
"I could give you a hand with that bag," Dean said to the man.
"I got it," Sherwin replied pleasantly.
"Okay..." Dean muttered, throwing me an unhappy look.
"So, the hotel's closing up, huh?" Sam asked, following behind us.
"Yep. Miss Susan tried to make a go of it, but the guests just don't come like they used to. Still, it's a damn shame," Sherwin replied, walking ahead of us and chatting at the same time.
"Oh yeah?" I asked, watching him as we walked.
"It may not look it any more, but this place was a palace. Two different vice presidents laid their heads on our pillows. My parents worked here, I practically grew up here. Gonna miss it." He stopped in front of a door and gestured. "Here are your rooms."
He slipped the key into the room on the left and opened the door. I brushed past and allowed Dean to get the key off him. Dean followed me, turning to shut the door. Sherwin was still standing there, hand extended out, an expectant look on his face. Dean looked down at the hand and then back at the man.
"You're not gonna cheap out on me, are you, boy?" He asked. Dean shot me an annoyed look as he pulled out his wallet, reaching for a few bills and handing them over. Sam chuckled from the hallway and waited to be shown his room.
A short while later Sam joined us in our room and started going through paperwork. Dean was pacing, a bundle of wound up energy. He walked up to stare at an antique wedding dress that was pinned to the wall. He chuckled at it, shaking his head.
"What?" Sam asked, looking over at him.
"That's normal," Dean said with a snort, pointing at the dress. "Why the hell would anyone stay here? I'm amazed they kept in business this long."
Sam ignored him and Dean came to join me on the bed. I was sitting in the middle because the mattress sagged, reminding me of the last time we'd slept in a bed like this, when we were on the job with Jefferson in Philadelphia. Dean startled when the mattress started to suck him into the middle of the bed and he struggled to sit on the edge of the bed, precariously balanced.
Philadelphia had been long before we'd been a couple. I smiled at the memory of a night spent cuddled up together in the middle of the bed out of necessity to get some sleep – how excruciating it had been at the time because I'd wanted him so badly but couldn't act on it. I found myself looking forward to a repeat, only this time making it even better.
"All right," Sam said, reading from the paper. "Victim number one: Joan Edison, forty-three years old, a realtor handling the sale of the hotel; and victim number two was Larry Williams, moving some stuff out to Goodwill.
"Well, there's a connection," I said, "they're both tied up in shutting the place down."
"Yeah. Maybe somebody here doesn't want to leave, and they're using hoodoo to fight back," Sam agreed with a nod.
"Who do you think our witch doctor is? That Susan lady?" Dean said, referring to the woman at the front desk.
"No, doesn't seem likely," I said. "I mean, she is the one selling."
Dean frowned, thinking about what I'd said. "So who then, Sherwin?"
"I don't know," I said with a shrug.
"Of course, the most troubling question is why do these people always assume we're gay as soon as Beth isn't around?" Dean said, looking quite concerned at this revelation.
"Well, you are kind of butch," Sam said with a chuckle. "Probably think you're overcompensating." I chuckled and Dean forced a laugh, not impressed.
"Right." He said, looking uncomfortable.
A short while later, we'd decided to take a look around the Inn, do a little snooping. Sam stopped to look at another urn on a table near the landing of the stairs leading to the ground floor.
"Hey," he said, getting our attention. "Look at that, more Hoodoo." He pointed to another quincunx inscribed inside the urn. This theme was starting to look less and less coincidental.
Dean walked past us to knock at a door labelled "Private". Susan opened it after a moment, looking out the three of us standing there.
"Hi. Everything ok with your room?" She asked.
"Yeah, yeah, everything's great," Dean and Sam said, talking over each other.
"Well, I was just in the middle of packing," Susan said, a little awkwardly as everyone fell silent.
Dean was staring past her into the room. "Hey, are those antique dolls?" He asked, looking at a bookshelf behind the door covered in creepy looking dolls, I shuddered, chucky dolls I called them. Ick.
"Because this one, this one here," Dean said, turning to indicate Sam, "he's got a major doll collection back home. Don't ya? Huh?" He turned to look at Sam, a challenge in his eyes.
Sam looked slightly mortified but composed himself, knowing he couldn't get out of the latest addition to our cover story. "Big time," he said with a short nod to Susan.
"Big time. You think he could come – or we could come in and take a look?" Dean asked, pushing her comfort zone.
"I don't know." Susan said, hesitating.
"Please? I mean, he loves them. He's not gonna tell you this, but he's, he's always dressing 'em up in these little outfits and, um, you'd make his day." Dean turned to Sam with a grin. "She would, wouldn't she? Huh?"
I bit my lip to stop from laughing at the looks being exchanged by the two brothers. Finally Sam turned back to Susan.
"It's true," he conceded with a nod.
Susan smiled, "OK, come on in," she said, opening the door further and allowing us all the enter.
"All right, all right!" Dean said encouragingly to Sam. I shook my head, he was a horrible brother sometimes, just horrible. Sam shot him a glare that would have killed him on the spot if it could.
Dean paused to look around. The entire room was just filled with the Chucky dolls. "Wow," Dean breathed. "This is a lot of dolls. I mean, they're nice, you know. Not super...creepy... at all." I raised my eyebrow at that, his tone showing that he obviously was as creeped out by them as I was.
"Yeah, I suppose they are a little creepy," Susan conceded with a shrug of her shoulders. "But they've been in the family forever. A lot of sentimental value."
I was looking at a doll house which was tucked away in a corner. "Is this the hotel?" I asked, looking over at Susan.
"Yeah, that's right. Exact replica, custom built," Susan said with a smile.
I leaned down and picked up a broken doll inside the house that was lying at the foot of the stairs, holding it up for Dean and Sam to see. "His head got twisted around. What happened to it?" I asked.
Susan shrugged. "Tyler, probably," she explained with a smile. Tyler, the little girl from earlier, ran into the room at that moment.
"Mommy! Maggie's being mean," the little girl said to her mother.
"Tyler, tell her I said to be nice, ok?" Susan said indulgingly.
"Hey, Tyler. I see you broke your doll," I said, holding up miniature man in my hand. "You want me to fix it?"
"I didn't break it. I found it like that," Tyler said, looking at me.
"Oh, well uh, maybe Maggie did it." I said, referring to the girl she'd just mentioned.
"No, neither of us did it. Grandma would get mad if we broke 'em." Tyler explained.
"Tyler, she wouldn't get mad," Susan said.
"Grandma?" Dean asked, curious.
"Grandma Rose," Tyler said. "These were all her toys."
"Oh. Really. Where's Grandma Rose now?" Dean asked, looking over at me following a hunch.
"Up in her room," Tyler said.
"You know, I'd, I'd really love to talk to Rose about her incredible doll..." Sam started to request an audience with Grandma Rose, but was cut short.
"No," Susan said shortly. "I mean, I'm afraid that's impossible. My mother's been very sick and she's not taking any visitors." We all looked at each other exchanging glances. It was a curious reaction to a simple request.
We excused ourselves, Susan was clearly starting to feel a bit uncomfortable, and there was nothing further to ask at this point. Dean spoke in a hushed voice as we walked back down the hallway to our rooms.
"Well, what do you think? Dolls, hoodoo, mysterious shut-in grandma?" He asked, looking over at us.
"Well, dolls are used in all kinds of voodoo and hoodoo, like curses, and binding spells..." I said, nodding.
"Yeah, maybe we've found our witch doctor," Dean said coming to a stop and looking at me. "All right, we'll see what we can go dig up on hoodoo granny," he then looked at Sam. "You go get online, check old obits, freak accidents, that sort of thing, see if she's whacked anybody before." Sam nodded and started to walk off toward the rooms.
"Don't go surfing for porn, that's not the kind of whacking I mean!" Dean said to his retreating back. Sam turned around and rolled his eyes at his brother. I stifled a chuckle and shook my head, oh Dean was all teasing attitude now he was getting some action again.
Outside the Hotel
Night had fallen, Dean and I had been down to the local library doing research – finding nothing, then we'd stopped for some dinner because I was starving. At least the morning sickness had passed, I was back to a normal, healthy appetite, and keeping the food down.
When we got back to the hotel a coroner's vehicle was parked out the front, and a man was being wheeled out on a stretcher. Susan was speaking to a Sheriff, and she turned to walk away toward us as we stood on the steps to the hotel.
"What happened?" Dean asked, as she approached us.
"Oh, the maid went in to turn down the sheets and he was just... hanging there," she said, clutching at her throat and looking distressed.
"That's awful," I said. "Was he a guest?"
"He worked for the company that bought the place," Susan answered. Dean and I exchanged a look.
"Hmmm," Dean murmured thoughtfully.
"I don't understand," Susan said absently, voicing a thought.
"What?" Dean asked, slipping a hand around my waist.
"Had a lot of bad luck around here," Susan said, looking up at the hotel. She shrugged and glanced back at us. "Look, if you'd like to check out I'll give you a full refund," she offered.
We smiled and I shook my head. "No thanks, we don't scare that easy," I answered for the both of us.
When we got up to our room Sam's door was ajar, and I could see him sitting alone in the dark in the middle of the room on a chair. He looked defeated, slumped over and silent. Dean wasn't paying much attention, already opening our own door with the key.
I hesitated at Sam's door and then pushed it open a little, stepping into the room.
"Sammy?" I said, coming around to look at him. Dean saw me go into the room and followed, looking over at his brother. Sam didn't answer us.
"There's been another death, some guy just hung himself in his room," I said to Sam.
"Yeah I saw," Sam said darkly, head still hanging down.
"Well, we've gotta figure this out, and fast. What'd you find out about Granny?" Dean asked, walking over to the desk and starting to flip through the papers stacked there.
"You're bossy," Sam said randomly and Dean turned around looking at me in surprise.
"What?" Dean asked, looking taken aback.
"You're bossy," Sam repeated with a shrug, looking over at Dean. "And you're short," he laughed sloppily at this observation and I raised my eyebrow.
"Sammy, are you drunk?" I asked, standing in front of our little brother.
"Yeah. So?" Sam said, shrugging again and giving us a look filled with attitude. He turned to Dean again. "Stupid..." he muttered.
Dean looked around and then inclined his head at what looked like the entire contents of the mini-bar laid out on the bench, empty.
"Dude, what are you thinking?" Dean asked, "we're working a case!"
Sam looked at me tearfully and sighed. "That guy who hung himself. I couldn't save him."
I sat down on the bed next to Sam and reached out for his hand. "What are you talking about? You didn't know, you couldn't have done anything," I said to him.
Sam stared at me. "That's an excuse, Beth. I should have found a way to save him. I should have saved Ava too." His eyes were haunted, and a look of anguish and guilt covered his face. I frowned over at Dean, apparently we'd just found the patented Sam Winchester, who had been hiding underneath all the false bravado that had been levied at us earlier in the day.
Dean approached us and stood in front of Sam. "Yeah, well you can't save everyone, even you said that," he said, a little dismissively.
Sam slammed his hands down on the armrests of the chair. "No! Dean you don't understand all right? The more people I save, the more I can change!"
"Change what?" Dean asked, looking confused.
Sam leaned forward, clutching his hands to his chest, looking up at Dean. "My destiny, Dean." He hesitated, watching his brother.
Dean's face softened as he looked at Sam, and he threw a worried glance at me.
"All right," I said, "Time for bed. Come on, Sammy," I said, slipping my arm around Sam's waist and trying to haul him to his feet.
"Yeah, come on," Dean agreed, helping me get Sam to his feet. Sam tottered precariously, leaning heavily on my shoulder.
"I need you to watch out for me," he said to neither of us in particular.
"Yeah, we always do Sam," I said, trying to reassure him.
"No! No, no, no, no. You have to watch out for me, all right?" Sam said, pulling away and standing in front of us. His eyes focused and he looked at both of us in turn. "If I ever turn into something that I'm not..." he turned to look at Dean. "You have to kill me."
Dean turned his head to the side, taking a breath. "Sam," he said dismissively, not wanting to get into a drunken discussion, especially one like this.
Sam shoved Dean and forced his brother to face him. "Dean! Dad told you to do it, you have to!"
"Yeah, well, Dad's an ass," Dean said angrily. Sam stared at him, confused. "He never should have said anything, I mean, you don't do that, you don't, you don't lay that kind of crap on your kids," Dean added, and I watched him, curious about this new attitude of his, he'd been doing a lot of soul searching lately.
"No. He was right to say it! Who knows what I might become? Even now, everyone around me dies!" Sam argued, shaking his head.
"Yeah, well, I'm not dying, and Beth's not dying, ok? And neither are you. Come on, Sam," Dean said, pushing Sam down on the bed, trying to get him to lie down and sleep it off. Sam struggled, grabbing Dean's shirt.
"No, please! Dean, you guys are the only ones who can do it. Beth, you have to promise." He looked urgently over at me.
I looked at him sadly. "Sammy, don't ask that of us," I said, tears in my eyes.
"Please, Beth. Dean, please. You have to promise me," Sam said, still holding on to Dean's shirt. Dean exchanged a look with me, he was unhappy. I frowned, and stepped over to them both, brushing my hand across Sam's forehead and pushing his hair out of his eyes.
I stared into those big brown eyes, full of tears and felt my heart break for him. He was still just that little thirteen year old boy I'd first met a decade ago, and always would be to me, no matter how old we were.
"I promise," I whispered to him and Dean sighed at me. "We promise, ok?" I said, looking up at Dean. Sam watched us both, looking first at me and then Dean. Slowly Dean nodded at Sam and we saw him relax, letting go of Dean.
"Thanks," Sam said, grabbing my face between his hands and looking into my eyes. "Thank you."
"OK, all right. Come on Sam, let's get you to bed ok?" I said gently, nodding at him, reaching up to remove his hands from my face. Sam fell back on the bed, turning over to face plant the pillow. He grabbed another pillow, pulling it in to his stomach and hugged it close.
Dean sat down on the chair Sam had been in, rubbing a hand across his eyes and down his mouth. I looked at him, concerned, as I took Sam's shoes off, and pulled a blanket up over him, sitting next to him and gently brushing my fingers across his forehead as he settled down and closed his eyes.
"I love you guys," he mumbled with a smile. I smiled back at him, then looked up at Dean.
"We love you too Sammy," I said, planting a kiss on his forehead. "Get some rest, we'll see you in the morning."
Dean stood up and followed me out of the room, closing the door behind us. Our door was open from earlier and I entered first. Dean stood in the door way, hesitating, a conflicted look on his face.
"Dean?" I asked, looking over at him. Dean stalked into the room, closing the door, and then came straight up to me.
"I am not going to kill my brother!" He said angrily, looking down at me.
"I know that, geez Dean, I didn't mean it – you know I'd never do anything to hurt Sam," I said, frowning at him. "Who do you think you're talking to here?" I asked.
Dean paused, taking a deep breath. "Yeah I know, I'm sorry... I wasn't thinking." I reached up to brush my hand along his cheek. He sighed and turned troubled eyes to me. "What are we going to do with him?"
I raised my eyebrow and half-shrugged. "Nothing, he's heard what he needed to hear from us, and now we know what's really going on inside of him. We do what we've always done, we look after him, that's all there is to it."
Dean nodded, sighing. "Remember when our lives were so much less complicated?" He asked with a smirk. I smiled and nodded, it seemed so long ago. Dean leaned in to me, his forehead pressed against mine, eyes closed. We stood like this for a few heartbeats and I hoped he was getting whatever comfort he needed. "At least I have you," he whispered in the end and I smiled, kissing him lightly on the lips.
"And I could really use a drink..." he said with a chuckle. I inclined my head with a grin.
"Let's go see if there's a bar, hmm?" He nodded at my suggestion and guided me to the door, his hand firmly at the small of my back.
Hotel Bar
Sherwin was behind the bar when we located it, not too far from the foot of the main staircase. The room was empty, so we took a seat at the bar.
"Find any good antiques?" Sherwin asked.
Dean looked confused at first then remembered the cover story from earlier. "Um, no! No, we got distracted," he answered, looking at the old man.
"Have a drink," Sherwin said pouring another glass of whiskey to compliment the one he was working on himself.
"Yeah, thanks," Dean said, nodding. Sherwin poured me a drink too, sliding it in front of me, I smiled, not wanting to discourage him, so I nursed it, not bothering to drink it.
"So, poor guy, huh?" I said, "Killing himself?"
"That kind of thing seems to be going around lately," Sherwin said with a nod.
"Yeah, yeah, we heard about the other ones. It's almost like this hotel is cursed or something," Dean chimed in, taking a sip of his whiskey.
"Every hotel has its spilled blood. If people only knew what's gone on in some of those rooms they've checked into." Sherwin said with a raised eyebrow, taking a sip of his own drink. I smiled, I thought about some of the things that went on in the rooms we checked into, and based on that, I wasn't sure I wanted to know about what other people did in them.
"You know a lot about the place, don't you?" I asked, looking at Sherwin.
"Down to the last nail," Sherwin said with a smile.
"I'd love to hear some stories," Dean said, giving him a grin.
"Boy, you should never say that to an old man..." Sherwin said with a chuckle. I laughed, Sherwin clearly had a liking to talk.
Not long after Sherwin was leading us up the staircase, showing us the old framed photographs on the walls.
"This is little miss Susan, and her mother Rose. Happier days," he said, pausing in front of a photo of a distinguished looking woman and her daughter.
"They're not happy now?" I asked, looking at the photo.
"Well, would you be, leaving the only home you ever knew?" Sherwin asked, looking back at us.
"I don't know, we never really had one," I answered honestly, he paused, looking at us with a shake of his head.
"Well, this is Rose's home, been in the family over a century. Used to be the family estate. And now she gets to live in some senior living graveyard, and they tear this place down." Sherwin said quietly, his voice level but disapproving.
"That's too bad," Dean said, turning to start back down the stairs. "I hear Rose isn't feeling well, either," he added, looking back at Sherwin.
"No, she isn't," the old man said, following.
"What's wrong with her?" I asked, trying to fish for more information.
"It's not my business to say," Sherwin said with all propriety.
"Oh," Dean said, looking at another photo. "Who's this?" He pointed to a framed picture sitting on a cabinet.
The photo was yellowing, obviously quite old. It was of a little girl sitting on the lap of a young black woman – they had a book open, but were looking up at the camera as the photo was taken. I noticed that the woman was wearing a quincunx necklace.
"That's Rose, when she was a little girl," Sherwin said, picking up the photo and looking affectionately at it.
"Who's that with her?" I asked.
"That's her nanny, Marie. She looked after Rose more than her own mother," Sherwin said knowledgeably. Dean threw me a concerned look and I nodded, finally we'd found an indication as to why there'd be hoodoo floating around in such a grand old house.
Sam's Room
Next Morning
We found Sam in the bathroom, kneeling in front of the toilet, looking miserable. I grimaced at the sight, having been there once or twice myself – especially in the last few months – but at least I hadn't had a choice about it, somehow that made me feel better.
Dean grinned at Sam, raising his eyebrow. There'd been plenty of times this role had been reversed, and dollars to donuts Dean was going to milk it for all he had.
"How you feeling, Sammy?" Dean asked smugly, leaning against the door jam looking down at his brother. Sam groaned, not answering with words.
"I guess mixing whiskey and Jager wasn't such a gangbuster idea, was it?" Dean continued, enjoying this just a little too much. Sam fell silent.
"I'll bet you don't remember a thing from last night, do you?" Dean asked hopefully, looking at me with a smile.
Sam groaned and lifted his head a little. "I can still taste the tequila..." he muttered at us. Dean smiled in relief, happy.
"You know, there's a really good hangover remedy: it's a greasy pork sandwich served up in a dirty ashtray," Dean teased and Sam heaved.
"Oh I hate you!" Sam groaned at him.
"I know you do," Dean said with a chuckle. I shook my head and looked over at Sam.
"Hey, so it turns out that when Grandma Rose was a little girl she had a Creole nanny who wore a hoodoo necklace," I said to him.
Sam looked up curious. "So you think she taught Rose hoodoo?"
"Yep," I said with a nod.
"All right," Sam said, standing up with a painful grimace. "I think it's time we talked to Rose, then," he said, looking at us.
I shook my head. "You're not talking to anyone in this condition, go back to bed, Dean and I can handle it," I looked at Dean who was silently laughing at his brother.
"You can brush your teeth though!" Dean said and Sam rolled his eyes, pushing past us and flopping down on the bed with a groan.
Dean and I approached the door to Susan's private rooms and knocked.
"Hello? Susan?" I said loud enough for her to hear if she were in the room, but not to draw attention from other areas of the hotel. Dean was glancing around at our surroundings. "Clear?" I asked him.
"Mm-hmm," he acknowledged with a nod, standing in front of me and keeping watch. I knelt down in front of the door and picked the lock.
The creepy ass dolls stared at us as we entered the play room behind the door. Dean nodded to a door in the back, crossing to it and finding it open. There was a dimly lit staircase leading up behind the door. We looked at each other, curious, and followed it, taking the stairs to the third level of the house. Another hallway, similar to below was at the top of the stairs, and a door stood open at the end.
There was an old woman sitting in a wheelchair, facing a window where it was raining.
"Mrs Thompson?" I asked quietly. "Mrs Thompson?"
The old lady was shrivelled over, wide-eyed, with messy hair. She looked around frantically but seemed to not be seeing much of anything, trembling.
"Rose?" I said, crouching in front of her, feeling the tightness of my jeans against my stomach. I frowned at the discomfort but dismissed it from my mind. "Mrs Thompson, we're not here to hurt you, it's ok..." I said. Rose just trembled harder, not responding. "Rose?"
I looked up at Dean and then pulled him aside, speaking in hushed tones to him. "Dean, this woman's had a stroke," I told him and he frowned.
"Yeah, but hoodoo's hands-on, I mean, you've got to mix herbs, and chant, and build an altar," he said, looking at me.
"Yeah, so it can't be Rose. Hey, maybe it's not even hoodoo," I said, looking around us.
"Or she could be faking," Dean said, I just stared at him.
"Well what are you gonna do, poke her with a stick?" I asked incredulously. Dean frowned and then nodded, moving toward her. I grabbed his arm, giving him a warning look.
"Dean! You're not gonna poke her with a stick!" I said to him.
"What the hell?! What are you doing in here?" Susan walked into the room, finding us.
"Well, the door was open..." Dean started to make excuses.
"Look at her, she is scared out of her wits. I want you out of my hotel in two minutes or I'm calling the cops!" Susan said. We nodded and left immediately, hurrying to get Sam.
Within minutes we were in the Impala, leaving the hotel.
We didn't go far. No way were we going to leave Susan alone in the house until we knew what the danger was.
We pulled around the corner and made our way back through the extensive gardens surrounding the house. Susan was outside near the playground and we watched from the trees as the swings started to move on their own as if there were children playing on them. Susan approached the swings, a confused look on her face. The teeter-totter was moving of it's own accord now too, and I watched with a frown. Susan reached out to stop it from moving, starting to look a little scared. Everything in the playground then started to move, spinning faster at alarming paces.
Susan backed away from the playground, panicked, and suddenly the car she had just been packing boxes into, revved it's engine, moving toward her. Susan hesitated, frozen in place as the car made to run her down. We were all on our feet, but Sam reached her first, tackling her to the ground as the car roared past and hit a tree. Dean and I ran to a halt in front of Sam and Susan, now lying on the ground.
"Are you ok?" I asked, looking down at them.
"I think so," Susan said, looking startled.
"Come on, come on." Dean said, helping Susan to her feet. "Let's get inside, let's go." We all went into the house, rounding the corner to the bar, leading Susan to a table.
"Whisky," Susan said simply and I smiled.
"I know the feeling," I said, feeling sorry for myself, what I wouldn't give for a stiff drink these days. I headed toward the bar where there were some bottles of different liquors sitting out.
"What the hell happened out there?" Susan asked, falling into a chair, her eyes sought out ours - she was still reeling from her experience, trying to take it all in. We'd seen it before, where the truth of the situation was undeniable, yet, every part of your brain was screaming at you that it wasn't real, that things like this didn't actually exist.
"You want the truth?" Dean asked. Susan looked at him incredulously.
"Of course," she answered, not realising that she didn't really, she just thought she did.
"Well, at first we thought it was some sort of hoodoo curse, but that out there? That was definitely a spirit." Dean said, spilling the whole theory on her.
I handed Susan a glass of whisky and she looked at us all wide-eyed. "You're insane," she muttered.
"Yeah, it's been said," Dean agreed, deadpan.
"Look, I'm sorry, Susan. We don't exactly have time to ease you into this, but we need to know when your mother had the stroke," Sam said, turning his puppy-dog eyes on.
"What does that have to do with anything?" Susan asked.
"Just answer the question," I said, looking at her.
"About a month ago," Susan answered, looking confused.
"Right before the killings began," Sam said, looking at us.
I glanced over at Dean. "What if Rose was working hoodoo, but not to hurt anyone. Maybe she was protecting them?" I asked, and Dean looked thoughtful.
"She was using the five spot urns to ward off the spirit," Dean said with a nod.
"Right, until she had a stroke and she couldn't do it anymore," Sam conceded.
"I don't believe this," Susan said, shaking her head and looking disbelievingly at us.
"Listen, sister, that car didn't try to run you down by itself, ok?" Dean said a little frustratedly, looking at her. "I mean, I guess it did, technically, but, but the spirit can..." Dean sighed, losing his train of thought, "...forget it."
"Look, believe what you want. But the fact is you and your family are in danger, all right?" I said, looking at Susan. "So you need to clear everybody out of here: your employees, your mother, your daughters, everyone."
"Um, I only have one daughter," Susan said, confused.
"One?" Sam asked, frowning.
"I thought Tyler had a sister named Maggie?" Dean asked, picking up on the issue.
"Maggie's imaginary," Susan said. We all exchanged concerned looks, suddenly there was a great big knot in my stomach.
"Where's Tyler?" I asked. Suddenly it was way too quiet in this big old house.
Susan led us up to the playroom where the doll house and all the creepy Chucky murder dolls were located.
"Tyler!" Susan called out as we came into the room. The floor was littered with broken dolls. Susan started to panic, looking around frantically.
"Oh my god. Tyler. Tyler! She's not here!" She gasped, spinning around.
"Susan. Tell us what you know about Maggie," Sam asked, looking concerned.
"Uh, not much. Um, Tyler's been talking about her since Mom got sick," Susan said, frowning.
"OK, did you ever know anyone by that name?" Sam asked, pressing for information.
"Uh, no..." Susan answered, shaking her head.
"Think, think, I mean, somebody that could have lived here, might have passed away?" Dean said sternly, there was a level of worry behind his eyes that I hadn't seen in a long time, maybe never.
"Oh my god. My mom. My mom had a sister named Margaret. She barely spoke about her." Susan said.
"Did Margaret happen to die here when she was a kid?" I asked, already knowing the answer.
Susan nodded. "She drowned in the pool." Her eyes widened and her face went pale at the implications of what she had just said.
Dean looked at me with steely eyes, "Come on!" He led the way out of the playroom, heading for the back yard.
We ran through the gardens to the pool house, located at the back of the property, it was old, wrought iron and looked like a giant glass house. Sam and Dean started pounding at the door once we reached it. I peered through the glass windows, it was hard to see as they hadn't been cleaned in some time, but I made out the little girl who was standing on the ledge above the pool.
"Tyler!" I called out to her, but the girl didn't turn.
"Tyler!" Susan yelled, seeing the same thing I did.
"Mommy!" Tyler yelled back, turning to look at us. Suddenly the girl fell forward, as if pushed into the pool, her scream echoing through the pool house.
Dean looked panicked, grabbing Susan by the arms. "Is there another entrance?" He asked shortly.
"Around back," Susan said with a nod.
"All right, let's go," Dean said to me, then looked at Sam. "Keep working."
We ran around the building, Susan right behind us. Dean kicked at the wooden door once we reached it, but it didn't budge, he kicked it again, it stayed shut.
"Son of a bitch!" Dean cursed, looking at me, furious.
There was the sounds of breaking glass then a splash, Sam had finally broken through. Dean lashed out one more time with a kick and the door broke in. We ran inside, through the little room to the pool. Sam was already in the water, and had Tyler in his arms, bringing her to the edge of the pool.
We all knelt next to her, Susan crying and Dean looked alarmed, swallowing hard.
Tyler suddenly coughed up a mouth full of water and spluttered before us, Susan pulled her into a sitting position and she drew in a deep breath for all of us. I sighed, falling to my knees in relief, leaning against Dean who put his arm around me.
"Thank god!" Susan said, and I smiled.
"Mommy!" Tyler whimpered, clinging to Susan.
"Yeah, baby, I'm here," Susan said, holding her tightly.
"Tyler, do you see Maggie anywhere?" I asked, looking at the little girl.
"No, she's gone," Tyler said, looking around.
A short while later we were back in the hotel, heading to Rose's room. Susan held Tyler closely to her as we walked.
"Don't worry, honey, we're leaving in two minutes, we've just got to get Grandma," Susan said to the girl.
"I don't get it, did Maggie just stop?" Dean asked, stopping outside the playroom and turning to us.
"Seems like it," I said, frowning, something didn't feel right about that.
"Well, where the hell did she go?" Dean asked, just as confused.
Upstairs Susan screamed, and we ran the short distance up the stairs to Rose's room. The old lady was slumped in her wheelchair, dead.
Susan walked over to us from the ambulance, her face looking drawn and haggard.
"Paramedics said it was another stroke. Do you think Margaret could have had something to do with it?" She asked, looking at each of us.
"We don't know," Dean said with a shrug.
"But it's possible, yeah." Sam said with a nod. Susan looked conflicted at this news, chewing at her lower lip. "Susan, I'm sorry," Sam said finally, looking at her.
"You have nothing to apologise for. You've given me everything." Susan said, smiling at Tyler as she came out of the house, skipping down the steps. "Ready to go, kiddo?"
"Yeah," Tyler said, looking happy to be leaving.
"Now Tyler, you're sure Maggie's not around anymore?" I asked, crouching down to look at the little girl.
"I'm sure," she told me. "I'd see her." I nodded and smiled at her, standing up again.
"I guess whatever's going on must be over then," Dean said, looking at me.
A taxi pulled up alongside us and Sam moved to open the door for Susan. "You two take care of yourselves, all right?" He said and Susan hesitated in front of him before pulling him in for a full body hug. Dean smirked at me and I grinned, shaking my head.
"Thank you. All of you," Susan said with a smile, before getting in the taxi. Sam shut the door behind her with a little wave.
Dean sidled up to his brother, a grin on his face. "Think you could have hooked up some MILF action there, bud." Sam threw him an eye roll but Dean wasn't fazed. "I'm serious, I think she liked you!"
"Yeah, that's all she needs," Sam said, shaking his head.
Dean chuckled and started to walk back to the Impala, Sam and I walked beside him.
"Well, you saved the mom, you saved the girl. Not a bad day." Dean said looking on approvingly. "Of course you know, I could have saved them myself, but I didn't want you to feel useless..." he added with a smirk, coming to stand by the driver's side door.
"All right, I appreciate it," Sam said sarcastically with a smile.
"Feels good getting back in the saddle, doesn't it?" Dean asked, looking across the car at Sam.
"Yeah, it does. But it doesn't change what we talked about last night, Dean." Sam said, his voice turning serious. Dean looked uncomfortably at me, and I turned innocent eyes to Sam.
"We talked about a lot of things last night," I said with a smile.
"You know what I mean," Sam said, eyes narrowing.
"You were wasted," Dean said with a sigh.
"But neither of your were." Sam pointed out, looking at us. "And you promised."
Dean and I said nothing, simply staring at Sam across the roof of the car. Sam looked at us long and hard before getting into the passenger side of the Impala. My worried gaze met an identical look from Dean, and I felt my mouth twitch in a sad grimace. Dean sighed and leaned in to kiss me on the forehead.
"Come on," he said quietly, getting into the driver's seat. I nodded to myself and climbed into the back seat behind him. Sam was brooding in the front and I reached forward to squeeze Dean's shoulder, getting a smile out of him in the mirror. He started the car and pulled away from the hotel.
I turned to watch it fade from sight as we moved along the road, a big old house that would soon be demolished, ancient things long forgotten. I sighed, it just all seemed so sad. I don't think Sam realised that when he was asking us to sign his death warrant, he was asking us to destroy something that had been decades in the making, a bond that couldn't just be broken like that.
Then again, maybe it was that bond that gave him the courage to admit there was something wrong, and that like always, we were bound to protect him, that was our duty to John, and he knew we would see it through to the end. Whatever it may be.
AUTHOR'S NOTES
Song for this chapter is "All In" by Lifehouse. Yes, it's kind of a love song, but it just seemed right for this episode given the dynamic these three have with each other.
Thanks to everyone for your comments and weighing in on the gender reveal! Definitely more yes than no, but I'm going to hold off for a little bit at least :)
I am completely floored by a lot of the great comments you shared with me, and so happy you're loving the story! I'll definitely be sticking with writing it – the updates have slowed a little because I'm back at work 3 days a week and I have a retreat I'm also in the middle of helping organise, so life has gotten busy – but I'm hoping to keep the updates to every few days, so don't worry, I'm not going anywhere – I want to take this all the way to the end! I'm too obsessed not to, I think about what's next constantly, I am just enjoying it too much and there are so many storylines wanting to come out!
PS. I'm not sure how already reviewing the question about the gender reveal will affect your ability to review the chapter now, apparently it doesn't let you post again! So please PM me if you have any thoughts on the chapter if you can't review :D
What's next? Oh yeah, another shapeshifter encounter – plus, the FBI is hot on their heels!
A little shout-out to my god-daughter Hailey (age 5) - she has a slight obsession with those creepy ass dolls with the eyes like Chucky. Her mother and I call them "murder dolls" after Chucky LOL Hailey thinks this is very bad of us, and she will walk around going "Not murder dolls! My babies!" (this was when she was a little younger, she's not so much into them now she's in school) OMG they are murder dolls though, they are creepy as!
I'm curious, for all those who have seen Season 8 – where do you think they'll go with Sam in Season 9? Is he going to be permanently damaged from going through the trials? Will he make a fast recovery? What are the ramifications likely to be? I'm wondering because one of the (many possible) story switches would be to put Beth through the trials instead (now that would be a relationship challenge!) but I'm not going to do that if she's going to end up completely damaged/nuts come season 9! Man... it's a good thing I have some time before we have to get to that storyline, because I have NO IDEA what to do there LOL.