Day Is Gonna Come

27. Lebanon

PRECIOUS PAWN – DAY

Dean and Seylah stood outside the shop. Sam joined them as they walked to the door.

They walked into the pawn shop and to the counter, where Terry was standing.

"Howdy, fellas, lady. Anything on the shelves, 20 percent off. Today only," Terry told them.

"Great. Well, actually, we are, uh – we're looking for the good stuff," Sam said.

Dean took out a bundle of cash. "The really good stuff."

Terry opened the door to a back room. Sam and Dean followed him in while Seylah was told, much to her frustration, to stay back. "Everything back here is one of a kind. You got your basics – hands of glory, your Gris-Gris bags, your anointed dove's blood. And then... we have the more premium items. You boys ever mess with dragon's breath?"

"Actually, we're, uh – we're searching for something pretty specific," Sam replied.

"How specific?"

"The skull of Sarah Good. She was executed during the Salem Witch Trials," Dean said.

"Oh, I know who she was. And I think I can help you." Terry opened the locker behind him. Sam picked up a teddy bear from the shelf and tried to pull the loop on its back. "I wouldn't do that."

Sam put the bear back on the shelf. Terry took a skull out from the locker. "I'll tell you what. I'll make you a deal. I got this for a song at a flea market up in Pawtucket–"

"No, you didn't. Belongs to Bart Kemp. See, he's a friend of ours – a hunter. Worked out of Boston up until last week. Somebody killed him – cut him clean in half," Dean said.

"See, when they, um, found the body, his place had been emptied out, but I suppose you already knew that, didn't you?" Sam asked.

"Huh." Terry picked up the bottle of dragon's breath and sprayed it at the Winchesters. The flames pushed them back. Dean fell against the door, as Sam fell on the floor. Terry took a large sword and walked towards Sam. "Now, this – it's called Chrysaor. Supposed to be able to cut through anything. Sliced up your pal real good with just one swing, but you – oh, you're a big boy. You might take some work. The girl back there, not so much."

Terry swung his arms up, but a gunshot rang out, hitting him in the chest. He fell to the floor, the sword falling from his hands. Dean was standing behind him, a gun in his hands.

"They always talk too much," Dean said. "And you're not gonna touch the kid."

Terry was lying dead on the floor. Sam looked over a ledger.

"Whoa. Dean, according to this, he's got a ton of occult objects here," Sam said.

"What do you want to do with all this crap?" Dean asked.

"I don't know. I mean, I-I guess we, uh, take it home, right?"

Dean picked up the dragon's breath and sprayed it. The flames rose, but Dean stopped pressing it. Sam shook his head at Dean.

"Right, yeah. Good plan. Home," Dean agreed.

The Impala drove down the highway.

A group of teens sat outside the Lebanon Vista Theatre.

"People say they're brothers and the girl is the taller man's adopted daughter. All I know is I was standing right here when I heard this – bam! From the trunk of their car. And then this, like, shallow breathing," Eliot said.

"No way," Max replied.

"Eliot, you're creeping Max out," Stacy told him.

The Impala engine rumbled, and stopped right in front of the theatre.