Lovely Δ SPN [ 1 ]

chapter forty-two

Sam is on the couch in the motel on his laptop and he has a few books. Evie is sitting next to him working on school. Dean walks in and tosses his keys on the table and eats a piece of candy.

"Really? After that guy choked down all those razor blades?" Sam asks.

"It's Halloween, man." Dean says. He holds a couple pieces of candy out to Evie who goes to take them, but Sam grabs her hands and puts them on her lap.

"No candy." Sam tells her.

"Oh, come on, Sammy. Don't be such a dud. She's a kid, kids love candy." Dean says.

"Don't care." Sam mutters.

"Come on, anti-fun guy. Besides she just turned 5, she deserves some. It is her birthday week." Dean states.

"Don't care." Sam repeats.

"Please, daddy." Evie looks up at him with puppy dog eyes.

"Fine." Sam sighs, relenting. "But just today."

"Yeah, no, totally." Dean says with no intention of listening. He gives Evie a few pieces of candy and she immediately starts to unwrap and eat them.

"If she gets sick, you're dealing with the mess." Sam tells his brother.

"Sure, candy hater." Dean says and Sam glares at him, but he just smiles back. "It was just her birthday and It's Halloween. Let the kid have some fun." Dean lowers his voice, glancing at Evie who chews her second piece of candy.

"For us every day is Halloween." Sam says.

"Stop being a downer. Anything interesting?" Dean nods to the laptop, changing the subject.

"Well, we're on a witch hunt, that's for sure, but this isn't your typical hex bag." Sam says. He points to the open hex bag they found at the victim's house. There's a silver piece that's the size of a coin and something small and charged and something organic looking that Evie thinks it looks like a dried up flower.

"Hmm, no?" Dean asks. Sam picks up the dried flower looking piece.

"Goldthread, an herb that's been extinct for 200 years. And this--" Sam puts that down and picks the silver up. "is Celtic, and I don't mean some new age knock-off. It looks like the real deal, like 600 years old real." Sam puts that down as Dean picks up the charred object. "And um... that is the charred metacarpal bone of a newborn baby."

"Ugh." Dean grimaces, putting the bone down. "Gross." Sam picks the bone up.

"Relax man, it's like, at least 100 years old." Sam says.

"Oh, right, like that makes it better? Witches, man, they're so friggin skeevy." Dean says. He moves to the chair next to the couch and sits down.

"Yeah, well it takes a pretty powerful one to put a bag like this together. More juice than we've ever dealt with, that's for sure. What about you? Find anything on the victim?" Sam asks.

"This Luke Wallace? He was so vanilla that he made vanilla seem spicy." Dean says. "I can't find any reason why somebody would want this guy dead."