After a quick stop at the motel for Elizabeth to change into a pair of jeans, they herd themselves into two cars before driving to the old Winchester place. The Winchesters and Elizabeth all ride in the Impala while Zane and Archer drive in Archer's beat-up Dodge truck, it's an experience Zane isn't at all happy about, voicing as much when they park across the street from the house.
"It was filthy," he complains," and it smelled like stale beer and Doritos."
"That's what you get for criticizing my outfit choices." The hunters crowd around the front door, Dean knocking while Elizabeth continues to talk. "Besides, you're the one that chose to ride with him in the first place." He scowls, crossing his arms over his chest. The movement makes the suit tighten over his shoulders, emphasizing how broad they are.
"Yeah, so I could taunt him and make him realize that the gaping hole inside him is where his soul used to be, not so that I could be traumatized by the smell of a cheap bachelor."
"Just behave," Elizabeth hisses as the front door opens. Standing just inside is a pretty blonde woman holding a toddler, the woman similar enough to Dana that Elizabeth raises a brow as she turns her head to glance at Archer. He sends her a glare, mouthing not a word. She makes no promises.
"What are you guys doing back," Jenny asks tiredly.
"Just thought we'd stop by and check on you guys," Archer answers, moving to the front of the group and taking the little boy from her. "This is Missouri Moseley, she's a psychic and here to help. That's Elizabeth, she's a hunter too, and that's her pet monster, Zane Daniels. Pay him no attention, he's just jealous of everyone and everything." The look Zane sends in his direction could have made Satan tuck tail and run. "Anyway, we need inside for a little while to do our thing." She looks uncertain, taking her son back and holding him as though she'll lose him if he leaves the circle of her arms.
"Uh, I don't think now is the best time for that." Archer opens his mouth to say something, but Missouri whacks the back of his head in a not-so-subtle way of making sure he keeps his fat mouth shut. Hot damn, I might have to try that in the future to spare me the sore knuckles I get from punching him.
"Give the poor girl a break," she scolds with a frown. "Can't you see she's upset?" Some of the worry leaves Jenny's eyes, amusement taking its place. "I'd say to forgive the boy, but he's a lousy little know-it-all like his daddy." And there it is, a glare even more potent than Zane's. Elizabeth's half surprised when Archer doesn't spontaneously combust. "Hear me out, Jenny."
"About what?" Jenny's still blocking the doorway, turned just right so that her son is angled away from them. Elizabeth's used the same stance before, holding Lilly while fending off churchgoers and fellow Girl Scouts.
"About the house. About the thing in there you think wants to hurt your family." Jenny's lips press into a thin line, the worry making her shoulders tense. Elizabeth steps forward between Sam and Dean, the three holding hands on instinct. It's from when they were kids and still new to all of this, like holding hands meant the monsters couldn't get them. "Please, let us help you."
There's a moment of tense silence that stretches out as Jenny studies them all, unsure about everything. There's a war going on in her mind, rational thoughts being attacked by the gut feeling of something wrong living alongside her babies. Elizabeth's seen the expression a lot of times, and soon Jenny's dipping her head in a nod. She shares one last glance with Missouri and then she's stepping aside to let them in.
Missouri is the first one inside with the rest following like ducklings, the psychic heading straight up the stairs and to a bedroom without prompting. All but Archer follow her up the stairs and into a nice bedroom, the walls painted powder blue with white trim. There are stickers on parts of the walls and posters on others, a pre-teen girl's room if Elizabeth has to guess. Elizabeth's room at Bobby's used to be decorated like this, Backstreet Boys posters against pink-painted walls.
Elizabeth crosses over to the window, peering out past the white lace curtains at the house down the street. It's her house, this window offering an almost perfect view of the front yard with the for sale sign near the driveway.
"Why this room," Sam asks. "I mean, why this one first?"
"Because this was your nursery," Missouri explains, patient and soft. "This is where it all began twenty-two years ago." This is where Sammy used to crawl around and kick his feet as he fought hard not to fall asleep, but it's also the room where Mary was killed and John's sanity began to spiral. Missouri meets Elizabeth's gaze and gives a slight nod of confirmation. Right, mind-reader.
The high-pitched whine of Dean's EMF detector makes her jump and tense until she realizes what it is, blushing when Dean sends a worried look in her direction. She shakes her head and gives him a tight smile in return.
"That an EMF," Missouri asks, glancing over at Dean and away from the framed picture resting on the nightstand.
"Yup," he says, green eyes going back to the flashing lights of the device.
"Amateur." The whine grows louder and more constant, all the small lights on the top of it glowing red to signal a high presence of either ghosts or electricity. "I don't know if you kids will be disappointed or relieved, but this ain't the thing that took your mom."
"Are you sure," Sam asks, taking a half-step forward. Zane and Elizabeth share a look and then he bows out of the room, not wanting to eavesdrop on something so personal to the Winchesters. Elizabeth can't blame him, she'd probably leave too if her life wasn't so entwined with theirs. "How do you know?"
"It isn't the same energy I felt the last time I was here. It's something different." Her face hardens when her eyes land on the closet doors.
"What is it," Dean asks, voice rough. Elizabeth goes to stand next to him, her hand a comforting grip on his arm as Missouri throws open the closet doors and steps inside.
"Not it…." She stops in the very center of the closet, turning to face the hunters again. "…. Them. There's more than one spirit in this place."
"What are they doing here?"
"They're here because of what happened to your family." She comes back out of the closet, the tense set of her shoulders easing somewhat. "Real evil was in this room all those years ago and it left behind gaping wounds." Missouri's gaze lands on Sam, direct and steady. "It seems like those wounds got an infection."
"But what does that mean," Sam asks, a little boy again with puppy eyes and no answers.
"This place is a magnet for paranormal energy now. That big bad thing that set the fire left behind an aura that feels right at home for the Poltergeist that's in here now." She glances around the room, like she's expecting the monster to jump out at any second. Knowing this job, that's entirely possible. "This thing isn't going to rest until Jenny and her babies are dead."
"What about the other spirit?"
"Can't quite make that one out yet. It's all fuzzy around the edges, but it doesn't feel like it means to do harm. More protective than anything." She shrugs, lips pursing for a moment. "It's not new, but it isn't old either. Somewhere comfortably in the middle."
"Well, one thing's for damn sure," Dean says, pocketing the EMF," nobody's dying in this house ever again." He stares down at Missouri, resolved to do whatever it takes to put an end to this mess. "So, whatever is here, how do we stop it?" Now, that's what Elizabeth wants to know.
"I think I know just the thing."
Zane rides in the Impala on the return drive, still complaining loudly about how awful Archer's truck is. Elizabeth would laugh, but Zane seems traumatized enough for now. Instead she begins dragging extra chairs up to Missouri's dining room table while the psychic gathers ingredients and sets them out.
"Put a little bit of all of that in these pouches," Missouri instructs, setting the leather pouches down in front of Dean. He looks up at her like she set a salad in front of him instead of some van-van oil. "Don't be afraid to get your hands dirty, boy. Dig in." He does so with a scowl before passing the baggie over to Elizabeth; she's in charge of the Angelica root and crossroads dirt, passing it off to Zane for the other bits while Archer's tying them closed with string.
"What are we supposed to do with these," Dean asks, sliding another juju bag Elizabeth's way.
"We're gonna put them inside the walls in the north, south, east, and west corners on each floor of the house. As long as these bags are in there, then all paranormal entities will want nothing to do with that house."
"We're going to knock holes in several walls," Elizabeth asks, arching a brow. "Oh, I'll bet Jenny's just going to love that."
"She'll live." And, really, there's no arguing with that point. Elizabeth passes another bag over to Zane before taking another from Dean. "Honey, will you go and get us all something to drink out of the fridge? Sam can take over for you."
"Sure thing." She pushes her chair back and heads into the kitchen, hearing footsteps pick up behind her and assuming it's Zane coming to assist. The kitchen is in the next room, cozy, the fridge door covered in family photos. It opens with the faint pop of the seal, Elizabeth pulling out some beer and handing the bottles to Zane without ever looking behind her as she reaches in for a bottle of water for herself.
"That's a nice view you're teasing me with, Liza." She tenses at Archer's voice and straightens too quickly, smacking the back of her head on a wire shelf holding leftover spaghetti. "I bet that smarted. Don't you know by now to take your head out of the refrigerator before trying to straighten up?" She turns on her heel to face the grinning little weasel, her expression totally devoid of amusement.
"I know a lot of things, Archer. I know that McGonagall giggled while those Hogwarts letters drove Harry's uncle crazy, I know Sam admires his hair in the bathroom mirror every morning, and I know that Lilly sneaks a package of powdered donuts into her room every night." She continues to stare up at him with rage in her eyes, taking slight pleasure in the way he backs up a step. "The one thing I'm proudest of knowing, though, is how to kill you with a golf club and make it look like Dora the Explorer did it."
"Now, Elizabeth—"
"If you'll excuse me, I have things to do." She scoops the beers off the counter and goes back to the other room. She's proud that she nearly made a grown man pee himself, but still too annoyed to actually smile about it. That can wait until this family is saved.
"Smiles are contagious, Liza," Zane comments. Nothing seems to make his happiness take a nosedive, the dude's basically a fucking labradoodle.
"I've been vaccinated."
With a hammer in one hand and a couple of juju bags in the other, Elizabeth heads up to the top floor with Zane, both of them splitting up to get the job done faster. It's weird being in this house, knowing that John and Mary had probably stored Dean's old crib in here and ate grilled cheese sandwiches down in the kitchen. Elizabeth grew up alongside the boys, can tell you exactly what John wants for supper just by looking at him, but this is somehow more intimate. This is their history.
The east side of the attic is the easiest, a hole already in the wall from an old bookcase finally falling apart, the baggie fitting perfectly inside it. Elizabeth moves on to the south side next, dread settling low in the pit of her belly. Just because half the job is easy, doesn't mean the whole job will be.
She scoots a small desk out of her way, kneeling on the floor and using the blunt end of the hammer to tap along the wall until she hears an empty thud. She flips the hammer over and starts beating it against the hollow spot, creating a hole just large enough to stick one of the baggies in. That's when all hell decides to break loose, a dusty sheet wrapping around Elizabeth's arms tight enough to make her drop the pouch. She fights against it, trying hard to get free of the material and making no real difference.
A pillowcase appears next, covering her head and part of her neck, constricting like a Boa. Her head begins to ache after a few seconds of this, breaths short and ragged, blood rushing to her head as black spots begin to dance in front of her eyes. Panicking, Elizabeth increases her struggles despite the fact that they've become sluggish. It's like she's fighting against mud.
Goddammit, if I wanted to die from lack of oxygen, then I would've just let Clarke finish the job a few months ago!
Just as her world begins to dim, the bedding is ripped off her and Zane's face comes into view, a deep gash on his forehead showing that he's been attacked, too. Gasping and coughing and not yet able to fully function, Elizabeth kicks the baggy over to him and he stuffs it into the hole she'd created.
"Are you okay," he asks, lying next to Elizabeth on the floor.
"I've had worse." A bright white flash makes both of them huddle together, shielding their eyes against it until it dies away a second later. "What the fuck was that?"
"Hopefully something good, but just in case let's go regroup with the others." Zane helps Elizabeth to her feet, both of them supporting each other as they make their way downstairs to the kitchen. The room's a mess, any and all possible weapons strewn over the floor and the kitchen table turned onto its side with several large knives stuck into it.
Elizabeth forces Zane to sit in one of the undamaged chairs before wetting a washrag to clean the blood off his face. The gash has stopped bleeding, but there's a lot of tacky blood around the cut and down the left side of his face. Zane will have to throw out the white shirt that he has on, but his gray overcoat and jeans seem to have been spared.
The others slowly filter into the kitchen as Elizabeth hands the cloth off to Zane, settling herself in his lap when her head gives an angry throb. Missouri is limping, Sam has dark red marks around his neck, and Archer's hand is badly burned. In fact, Dean seems to be the only one that got out of this unharmed.
"Hey," Dean says, raising his chin towards the pair in the chair. "What attacked you guys?"
"Bedding," Elizabeth grumbles right as Zane says," A wooden duck figurine."
"Lucky," Archer sighs, wincing as he flips the table back over so he can sit on it. "I had a whole box of matches spontaneously catch fire in my coat pocket." Elizabeth doesn't even have the energy to laugh at that, she just drops her head against Zane's shoulder and does her best not to pass out right then and there.
She needs a cold beer and about eight hours of good sleep. Mothman could show up and knock over her bedside lamp and she'd probably sleep right through it at this point.
"Are you sure this is over," Sam asks.
"I'm sure," Missouri answers after a moment of silence. "Why? Why do you ask?"
"Ah, never mind." Sam heaves a frustrated sigh and Elizabeth knows without opening her eyes that he's running his fingers through his hair. It's a gesture he's done all his life when he's not totally convinced about something be it haunted houses or the thesis statement of his term paper. "It's nothing, I guess."
Before Elizabeth can call him out on his bullshit, the front door opens and shuts and then there's footsteps heading their way. Elizabeth really hopes that Jenny doesn't mind her redecorated kitchen considering the hunters have just saved her ass.
"Hello," Jenny calls out, turning on the hall lights as she goes. "We're home." She looks genuinely shocked and curious when she and the kids stop in the kitchen, gazing around and no doubt wondering how a mess this bad could've been made in a little over two hours. "What happened?"
"A lot happened," Sam says, wincing. "We'll pay for the damages, though." Dean's never looked so offended before, shooting his brother a look that easily translates into I will turn you into a pretzel and drown you in hot cheese.
"And Dean will clean up this mess for you," Missouri adds. Dean's offended look is aimed her way now and Missouri meets it without any hint of fear. "What are you waiting for? Get the broom." He shakes his head the same way a teenager might when he's woken up at six in the morning by his dad mowing the lawn. "And don't you cuss at me!"
Elizabeth laughs so hard that she slides right off Zane's lap.