Dean parks the Impala in front of the church, engine idling as they stare out the window and try to remind themselves that this is actually worth all the effort. With a resigned set to their shoulders, the engine is cut and the three of them step out into the cool air. So far, the only good thing that's happened for Elizabeth today was changing out of a dirt-smeared skirt into simple jeans and a pink hoodie.
"No chances tonight, we melt anything that even looks like it could be silver," Dean states, stopping a few feet in front of the Impala.
"We're gonna have to break in since Lori's stayin' with her dad at the hospital," Sam adds, turning his head to look at Elizabeth.
"I need the practice anyway," she shrugs, holding out a hand for Dean's lock pick set. Dean pulls the small tool case out of his pocket and lays them in her outstretched palm. "Who's goin' where?"
"I'll take the church," Dean says," and Liza can handle the basement." Sam doesn't look put out at being stuck with the house, though he does hesitate when he sees the smirk tugging at Dean's lips. "Don't go snooping through her underwear drawer, Sammy." Sam scoffs but manages a smile all the same when Elizabeth bumps him with her hip. "Alright, Liza, show me all that time I played teacher paid off."
"Or what, you'll spank me?"
"I might just do that anyway."
"Guys," Sam interjects, expression sour," I'm not even two feet away from you. Save the dirty talk for later." Elizabeth grins as she works on the front door, the tumblers giving way easily and the door swinging open without a hitch. The house portion of the church is nice, filled with little knickknacks that tie the mismatched furniture together.
While Sam begins to search through the living room, Elizabeth hands off the picks to Dean and finds the door that leads to the basement. The stairs aren't rickety, so she doesn't have to worry about them collapsing under her weight at anytime even if they do give out the occasional groan underfoot. Like most basements, this one has the musty smell of old things that have been left to rot out of sight; dust-coated drapes pulled over furniture, papers and pictures moldering in damp boxes.
Elizabeth picks a corner and works outwards from there, collecting the things she finds in an old basket that used to hold sheet music. Like Dean said, they can't afford to take any chances because that could get someone killed. Most likely one of us since we're the dumb kids that poke a hornet's nest with a friggin' stick.
"Alrighty, let's get started on that fire," she mumbles to herself with a self-satisfied smile, carefully walking around the piles of junk to the furnace. There's a little pile of wood stacked next to it and she piles it in the iron belly the way her uncle had taught her, adding some strips of newspaper as kindling before lighting a match and tossing it in. The salt and silver come next, antique spoons melting down fast while the tea kettle takes a little longer.
The creaking stairs have her glance over her shoulder, spotting Dean as he makes his way over to her using the fire to see by.
"Wouldn't have found the actual hook down here, would ya," he asks with a wry smile, dumping the items he'd found out of a burlap sack.
"If I had I would've said something, Einstein." He chuckles, throwing in the things he'd found one at a time to make sure they all melt. Sam joins them a moment later with a bulging pillowcase held against his chest like a teddy bear. "What about you, Sammy, find anything that you'd keep in your pocket? A thong or two maybe?"
"God, you're as bad as Dean sometimes," he mumbles.
"What's that supposed to mean," the other two ask in unison. Sam just rolls his eyes, nearly tripping over a little wagon before he actually makes it over to the furnace. Instead of piling in his things by hand like Dean and Elizabeth had, Sammy throws in the whole pillowcase, though that might have something to do with the little clowns decorating one side of it.
Sitting there in quiet and watching the silver burn and melt, Elizabeth probably feels a little too confident. This entire case has been some kind of nightmare from hell and she'll be glad when it's finally over, so she can go visit Lilly. It'll be nice to spend a night where the only thing she has to worry about is her niece eating too much candy and staying up all night.
A squeaky floorboard upstairs has all three of them tensing, watching as dust falls from above them. Dean leads the way with the shotgun in his hands, the stairs leading into the chapel where they find Lori sitting in one of the pews instead of a hook-handed maniac. To say it's a relief is putting it mildly, Elizabeth relaxing when she realizes the intruder isn't going to kill them all. The three share a look and come to a silent decision, Sam going to check on Lori while the other two return to the basement.
"You sure it was smart leaving Sam up there when Hook's attached to Lori," Elizabeth asks uncertainly. She uses an iron poker to push a silver cup further into the fire and watches as it melts faster.
"If somethin' happens up there we'll still hear it, Liza." She nods, thinking of Lilly and how she'll explain such a long absence to the three year old. The toddler hates it when her aunt is gone for so long, but it's part of the job and Elizabeth's doing everything she can think of to keep Lilly out of it. She wants her to have a normal life and a family of her own, not become an obsessed hunter like Elizabeth was raised to be. Screaming from upstairs jerks her out of her thoughts, she and Dean sharing a panicked look before bolting back to the main floor.
"I knew we should've stayed up there!" She has her pistol in hand, Dean grumbling under his breath and readying the sawed-off shotgun. They follow the screams into what looks like an office, Hook standing over Lori and ready to do his worst.
"Hey, bitch!" Hook doesn't even get the chance to turn before Dean fires, the spirit disappearing in a haze of smoke as the salt knocks a good-sized hole in the plaster. It's only a temporary solution, but it's also the only one they have until they figure out what they'd missed.
"I thought we got all the silver," Sam yells.
"I thought so too," Elizabeth says breathlessly," but apparently we missed something, so get off your ass and start looking!" Sam glances down at Lori and his eyes light up.
"Where'd you get that chain?" The women both look down at Lori's necklace and Elizabeth sees immediately what Sam means. A silver cross on a silver chain hangs around her neck and it could be the key to killing the bastard.
"My dad gave it to me," Lori explains, close to tears again. "He said it was a church heirloom." Sam grabs the little cross, the delicate chain snapping after a firm yank. Before he can move to stand Hook starts up again, invisible apart from the line he's gouging in the hallway wall. It stops just before a curio cabinet only to start up again across the ceiling of the office.
"Sam, trade me," Dean commands, handing over the gun and shells for the necklace. As Dean runs off for the basement, Jacob appears out of thin air and delivers a blow that has Elizabeth colliding with the wall, the air knocked out of her as she hits the floor. Sam's the next one to get thrown, landing on his back next to Lori as the spirit raises his hook to deliver the killing blow.
He seems to freeze for a moment, hook melting and long coat burning like it's made completely of embers. It's always strange to see a ghost die a second time, going up in a flurry of orange light and ash until nothing is left behind aside from an ozone smell and a truly impressive number of bruises.
About fucking time something went right.
The next morning really cements the fact that cops are pretty much useless to hunters at any stage in an investigation. "How many times do I have to say it, Barney," Elizabeth asks, shifting impatiently from one foot to the other. "The hook guy showed up with the plan to kill Lori or somethin' and he wasn't expecting my brothers and me."
"You guys ran off an insane murderer," the deputy checks, disbelief written all over his face. "You're like, five feet and look as dangerous as a kitten."
"I'm five-two, for your information, and it wasn't just me that was fighting. Look at that guy." She gestures at Sam with raised brows. "Would you feel comfortable fighting him when he's using a candelabra as a bat?" The deputy makes a face at that, shaking his head. "I didn't think so. Now, if you're finished with the interrogation, I'm leaving." She shoulders past him with a roll of her eyes, climbing into the backseat of the Impala where Dean is already waiting. "What's got the gears whirring in your head this early in the morning, Winchester?"
"Just thinkin' about how I won our little wager," he smirks, turning in his seat to look at her. "I'll have to pick up another copy of that magazine, but I'm fairly confident you remember that position I was tellin' you about." She snorts, bringing out her own copy and handing it off to him.
"I have to have at least seven hours' worth of sleep and a cup of coffee before I can turn myself into a human pretzel."
I understand about indecision/But I don't care if I get behind/People livin' in competition/All I want is to have my peace of mind./Now you're climbin' to the top of the company ladder/Hope it doesn't take too long/Can'tcha you see there'll come a day when it won't matter/Come a day when you'll be gone