Superstitions {Dean Winchester 2}

Chapter 39

Houses of the Holy

"We got a minor T.A. involving a, uh, motorcycle and a van." A voice says through the police scanner. Dean held the device, sitting on the foot of the bed. "This is at the corner of, uh, 28th and Pine." 

"Dean, turn that thing off. It's not helping." I say, looking at him through the mirror on the opposite wall as the beds. He rubbed his eyes before turning to look over his shoulder at the Magic Fingers box on the nightstand. He turned back, sighing sadly. 

I shook my head, dropping my mascara back into my makeup bag. I turned to face him. "Wipe the sad look off of your face, Dean-o. I actually have somethin--"

I was cut off by the door opening and Sam walking in. 

"Did you bring quarters?" Dean asked. 

Sam gave him a look. "Dude, I'm no enabling your sick habit." He tossed a bag of food to Dean. "You're like one of those lab rats that pushes the pleasure button instead of the food button until it dies." He sat down on his bed. 

"What are you talking about? I eat." Dean says. 

"Sam Winchester." I say. "Be nice." 

"Saige, you have to agree with me here." Sam argued. 

"I agree it's an odd habit but if it weren't for that, I wouldn't be able to get him off of me. Okay, a girl needs a break every once in a while." I say. "Plus, it's not like it's gonna kill him. As I was saying before Sam interrupted, I have something for you." I grabbed the small pouch from my bag before moving to Dean. He looked up at me questioningly. I dropped it into his hand. "Quarters. Knock yourself out." 

"I love you." Dean smiled, standing up to kiss me. 

I patted his chest. "Love you too, even if you are a weirdo lab rat."

"Ha-ha." Dean glared at me. "Anyway, I got news. " He sat back down.

"Me too." Sam says, looking down at the notepad in hand.

I sat next to Dean as he offered a bite of his burger. 

"Three students disappeared off the campus this year. All were last seen at the library." Sam explained. 

"Where Carl Gulley worked." Dean pointed out. 

"Yep."

"Sick bastard." Dean muttered. 

"So Gloria's angel--"

"Angel?" Dean asked.

"Okay, whatever this thing is." 

"Okay, well, whatever it is, it struck again." Dean stated. 

"What?" Sam asked.

"Another guy turned up dead and somebody was like 'an angel told me to be a murderer.'" I say. 

"We were...listening to the police radio. There was this guy, uh, Zach Smitt." Dean began. 

"Well, technically, we were making out until the police radio had something interesting to say." I mumbled. 

"Anyway, some local drunk. He went up to a stranger's front door last night, stabbed him in the heart." Dean continued. 

"He went to the police and confessed?" Sam asked. 

"Yup. Roma Downey made him do it." Dean stood, walking over to the mirror and plucking the sticky note he'd written on off. "Now, I, uh, got the victims address." 

___

"Ah, the life of a criminal." I say as Dean grabbed onto my elbows and pulled me atop the dumpster.