Supernatural: Season Two

Playthings (4)

I through my head back and let out a laugh. "Of course I was sick as a kid. Don't you remember?" I shook my head. "You use to hold my hair back and make sure I was okay." I shook my head. "Dean, you took care of me too."

"Yeah maybe I did, but you deserved way better." He leaned down to kiss the top of my head.

"I think I got the best when I found you."

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Once Sam was cleaned up we made our way to Susan's room, knocking to see if she was inside.

"Hello? Susan?" Sam called as Dean and I kept watch. "Clear?" He asked.

"Mm-hmm." Dean hummed.

Sam knelt down and picked the lock which lead us into the creepy doll room. I looked around taking note of each vintage doll that seemed to all be staring at me.

"Hey." Sam called pointing to a door in the back of the room.

We moved forward and saw that the door led to a dimly lit staircase.

"Oh I hate this." I groaned quietly as we made our way up the stairs, the steps creaking with each step we took.

At the top of the stairs we came to another door that was slightly a jar, pushing it open we saw an older woman seated in a wheelchair facing the rainy window.

We approached cautiously, trying not to startle or frighten the woman. "Mrs. Thompson?" Sam called. "Mrs. Thompson?"

I watched as the older woman trembled in fear, but continued to stair at nothing.

"Rose?" I called. "Hi, Mrs. Thompson, we're not here to hurt you, it's okay it's-" I stopped as I watched Rose continued to tremble harder. "Rose?" I raised a brow.

I turned to Dean and Sam, nodding to the side of the room. We made our way over, keeping our voices hushed.

"This woman's had a stroke." I rubbed my forehead tiredly.

"Yeah, but hoodoo's hands-on. I mean, you've got to mix herbs, and chant, and build an altar." Dean explained, his hands moving with each word.

"Yeah. So, it can't be Rose. Hey, maybe it's not even hoodoo." I suggested.

"Or she could be faking." Dean suggested making Sam scoff.

"Yeah, what are you gonna do, poke her with a stick?" Sam rolled his eyes.

Dean frowned in thought but nodded, surprising me.

"Dude! You're not gonna poke her with a stick!" Sam whispered/yelled.

I was about to smack some sense into Dean when Susan entered looking really pissed.

"What the hell? What are you doing in here?" She demanded.

"Oh, we just wanted to talk to Rose . . ."

"Well, the door was open . . ." Dean and Sam talked over each other.

"Look at her, she is scared out of her wits. I want you out of my hotel in two minutes or I'm calling the cops!"

Dean, Sam, and I left without hesitation, heading straight to our room to pack rather quickly.

"So all we have accomplished was scaring a woman who has had a stroke." I pointed out as we got into the impala.

Dean started up the car driving off, I leaned up into the front seat and gripped the leather tightly. "We're not just going to leave, are we?" I questioned.

"No, we're going to do a little detour." Dean winked in the mirror before turning around parking a little further away from the hotel, but close enough we could see what was going on.