ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪɴᴄʜᴇꜱᴛᴇʀ'ꜱ||ꜱᴜᴘᴇʀɴᴀᴛᴜʀᴀʟ

ɴᴏ ᴇxɪᴛ (ᴘᴛ 2)

In the morning, Dean is twisted up in a very awkward sleep-position on a leather sofa. Sirens sound nearby and he wakes up, groaning. Jo is sitting at the table, twirling her knife and studying notes and blueprints.

"Morning, Princess" Jo says sarcastically.

"Where's Sam and Theo?" He asks.

"Went to get coffee" Dean gets up slowly, grimacing.

"Ugh. My back. How'd you sleep on that big soft bed?"

"I didn't. Just been going over everything" He looks down at her, considering. He places a bag onto the table and pulls out a Bowie knife, unsnapping it from the sheath and handing it to her, hilt-first.

"Here"

"What's this for?" Jo asks.

"Work a hell of a lot better than that little pig-sticker you're twirling around" Jo takes the knife, then hands Dean hers. He studies it, and sees engraved on the blade: W.A.H. He looks up at Jo, getting it.

"William Anthony Harvelle"

"I'm sorry. My mistake" He takes his knife back, sheathing it.

"What do you...what do you remember about your dad? I mean, what's the first thing that pops into your head?" Dean shakes his head "Come on, tell me" Dean looks at her and considers before sitting down.

"I was six or seven, and uh, he took me shooting for the first time. You know, bottles on a fence, that king of thing. I bulls-eyed every one of 'em. He gave me this smile, like...I don't know"

"He must have been proud"

What about your dad?"

"I was still in pigtails when my dad died, but I remember him coming home from a hunt. He'd burst through that door like, like Steve McQueen or something. And he'd sweep me up in his arms, and I'd breathe in that old leather jacket of his. And my mom, who was sour and pissed from the minute he left, she started smiling again. And we were... we were a family. You wanna know why I want to do the job? For him. It's my way of being close to him. Now tell me what's wrong with that"

"Nothing" Theo and Sam bursts through the door.

"Where's the coffee?" Dean asks.

"There are cops outside. Another girl disappeared" Theo says. Jo and Dean look at each other. Later, Sam and Jo are studying the notes, a little more urgently than before. Dean and Theo returns, shutting the door. They walk over to the table.

"Teresa Ellis, Apartment 2F. Boyfriend reported her missing around dawn" Dean says.

"And her apartment?"

"Cracks all over the plaster, walls, ceiling. There was ectoplasm, too" Theo says.

"Well, between that and that tuff of hair I'd say this sucker's coming from the walls"

"But who is it? Building's history is totally clean" Jo picks up a photograph.

"Well, maybe we're looking in the wrong place"

"What do you mean?" Theo asks.

"Check this out" Sam looks at the photo.

"An empty field?"

"It's where this building was built. Take a look at the one next door. The windows"

"Bars" Sam says.

"We're next door to a prison?" Dean says. Later, Jo is on the phone.

"Thanks, Ash. And if you breathe a word of this to my mom...That's right. I will. With pliers" Jo hands up "Okay. Moyamensing prison. Built in 1835, torn down in 1963. And get this. They used to execute people by handing them in the empty field next door"