Lovely Δ SPN [ 1 ]

chapter thirty-one

"I don't understand, Dean. Why not?" Sam asks as Dean drives the Impala. It's nighttime and Evie was once again awoken by their fighting.

"Because I said so." Dean states.

"We got the Colt now!" Sam exclaims.

"Sam..."

"We can summon the crossroads demon..."

"We're not summoning anything."

"...pull the gun on her, and force her to let you out of the deal!"

"We don't even know if that'll work!"

"Well, then we'll just shoot her! If she dies then the deal goes away!"

"We don't know if that'll work either, Sam! All you're pitching me right now is a bunch of "ifs" and "maybes" and that's not good enough, because if we screw with this deal, you die!"

"And if we don't screw with it, you die!"

"Sam, enough! I am not going to have this conversation."

"Why, because you said so?"

"Because I said so!"

Evie looks between them, scared they're going to start yelling louder and not liking either outcomes of their current problem.

"No, but I am the oldest. And I'm doing what's best. And you're going to let this go, you understand me?" Dean tells his brother. They stare angrily at each other before Sam turns away, looking out the window, still angry. "Tell me about the psychotic killer." Dean says in a calmer voice than before. "C'mon, Sam, tell me about the psychotic killer."

Sam grabs the paper off his lap and reads it in a monotone voice. "Psychotic killer... rips victims apart with brute-like ferocity."

"Okay, any mention of his razor sharp teeth or his four inch claws? Animal eyes?" Dean asks.

"No. But the lunar cycle's right. Look, if it is a werewolf we don't have long, moon's full this Friday and that's the last time it changes for a month." Sam states.

"Two days, no sweat." Dean says.

+++

Dean walks out of the library over to his brother and niece.

"So?" Sam asks.

"Checked every record they had. Found the usual amount of violent childhood deaths for a town this size." Dean says.

"Okay." Sam says.

"Wanna know how many were little girls with black hair and pale skin?"

"Zero?"

"Zero! You wanna know how many little girls with black hair and pale skin have gone missing? Right again. Zip, zilch, nada. Tell me you've got something good cause I've totally wasted the last 6 hours."

"Well you ever hear of Lillian Bailey? She was a British medium from the 1930s."

"She got a thing for fairy tales?"