someone to you, supernatural [ 1 ]

035. haunted inn

They're still in Peoria and looking for Ava, still not finding anything. Sam is on the phone with Ellen and Libby is sitting on his lap. Evie is in a chair next to them and coloring. Natalie is sitting on one of the beds and has the news on, it talking about all the people that she killed while possessed.

Dean, Jacob, and Ophelia get back to the motel with drinks and food. Ophelia only went since Jacob did.

"This is the most crime that Peoria has seen in--" Natalie looks up as the TV turns off. She looks up as Jacob puts the remote down.

"We told you not to do that." Jacob says.

"It's not my fault it's on." Natalie mumbles.

"Somebody had to change the channel." Jacob argues. "Stop. It's not your fault." He holds the hot chocolate out to her.

Natalie seems to consider before she takes the cup, cradling it in her hands.

"Here. Didn't see you eat much earlier." Jacob opens a small box to reveal a cinnamon roll, sitting next to her.

"Thanks." Natalie mumbles.

"You should really eat, Nat." Jacob says.

"Yeah, I know. I just don't have the energy." Natalie mutters, repositioning herself so she's half lying down.

Jacob glances between her and the cinnamon roll for a few moments. He reaches over and puts his cup of coffee on the nightstand. He tears a part of the cinnamon roll off and holds it out to Natalie's mouth.

"Are you serious?" She asks.

"Yeah. Yeah, super serious." He nods.

Natalie gives him a look, but opens her mouth, taking the bite of cinnamon roll and chewing it.

"What'd she have to say?" Dean asks Sam after he hangs up with Ellen.

"Oh, she's got nothing. Well, aside from making sure Jacob doesn't get himself killed." Sam says.

"Such little faith." Jacob mutters, feigning disappointment. Natalie smiles a little as he feeds her another piece of cinnamon roll.

"Me, I'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? Demon really did good at covering its tracks." Sam says.

"What about you?" Sam asks, taking a coffee cup from Dean.

"No, same as before. Sorry, man." Dean says.

"Ellen did have one thing." Sam says.

"Hmm?" Dean asks.

"A hotel in Cornwall, Connecticut. Two freak accidents in the past three weeks." Sam informs.

"Yeah? What's that have to do with Ava?" Dean asks.

"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 180. 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."

"You did?"

"Yeah. You seem surprised."

"Well, yeah, it's just, you know, not the, uh, patented Sam Winchester way, is it?" Dean asks, sitting on his bed.

"What way is that?" Sam asks, ready to get defensive.

"I just figured after Ava there'd be, uh, you know, more angst and droopy music and staring out the rainy windows, and--" Dean stops as Sam gives him a look. "Yeah, I'll shut up now."