Playthings

                                    

                                          
Blues music plays on the radio as I look over the motel room walls that were covered in maps, hand-written notes, and a missing poster of Ava. "Yeah. Okay. Thanks, Ellen." Sam said into his phone, before hanging up. 
Dean enters the room, with a drink carrier. "What'd she have to say?" He asked Sam. "Oh, she's got nothing. Us, we've been checking every database I can think of... federal, state, and local. No one's heard anything about Ava, she just... into thin air, you know?" Sam explained.
"Huh." Dean muttered, and he hand each of us a cup of coffee from the carrier he's holding. "What about you?" I asked Dean. "No, same as before. Sorry, guys." He replied. "Ellen did have one thing. A hotel in Cornwall, Connecticut. Two freak accidents in the past three weeks." Sam said. "Yeah? What's that have to do with Ava?" Dean asked. 
"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? Look, I don't know, Dean, it might be nothing, but I told Ellen we'd think about checking it out." Sam explained.
"You did?" Dean asked. "Yeah. You seem surprised." Sam said, confused. "Well yeah, it's just, you know. not the, uh, patented Sam Winchester way, is it?" Dean said. "What way is that?" Sam asked, mildly challenging.
"I just figured after Ava there'd be, uh, you know, more angst and droopy music and staring out the rainy windows, and..." Dean said, earning a look from Sam. "Yeah, I'll shut up now." He said.
"Look. I'm the one who told her to go back home. Now her fiancé's dead and some demon has taken her off to God knows where. You know? 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." Sam said, making me smile. Now that's one's of the reasons I'm still so hung up on Sam Winchester.
"Wow. That attitude is just way too healthy for me, and I'm officially uncomfortable now. Thank you." Dean said, Sam ducks his head and laughs. "All right, call Ellen. Tell her we'll take it." Dean said.



It's not raining, but the roads are wet and the air misty as the boys and I park the Impala in front of Pierpont Inn. "Dudes, this is sweet. I never get to work jobs like this." Dean said as we got out the car and walk towards the entrance.
"Like what?" I asked. "Old school haunted houses, you know? Fog, and secret passageways... sissy British accents. Might even run into Fred and Daphne while we're inside." He said, closing his eyes briefly. "Mmm, Daphne. Love her." He muttered, dreamily.
When we started walking up the steps, Sam notices an urn on the side of the porch. "Hey, wait a sec." He said, stopping to inspects it more closely. "I'm not so sure haunted's the problem." He said. "What do you mean?" I asked. "You see this pattern here?" Sam asked, tapping a five-point symbol engraved in the urn. "That's a quincunx, that's a five-spot." He said.
"Five-spot." Dean said, questionably. "Yeah." Sam replied. "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 explained. "Yeah, except I don't see any bloodweed. Don't you think this place is a little too, uh, whitemeat for hoodoo?" Dean asked. Sam shrugs. "Maybe." He said.
As we enter the inn, looking around at the quiet interior, a woman enters briskly. "May I help you?" She asked. "Hi, yeah, I'd like two rooms for a couple of nights." Dean said.
As Sam and I move in, a little girl darts in front of our legs. "Hey!" The woman yelled after the little girl, who disappears around the corner. "Sorry about that." The woman said to us. "No problem." Sam said, while I nodded.