“You’re fucking kidding me, right?”
“No, this is for real. All the signs are there. Just keep driving and let me work out the details, all right?”
“Please just acknowledge how insane this is.”
“It’s not insane.”
“To placate me. If for no other reason, to give me the satisfaction of you saying it. Come on.”
“Fine. It sounds insane. Whatever. But that doesn’t negate the evidence. There’s a hunt there, Dean. Our kind of job. And we’re going.”
“Yes, of course we’re going, because I’m driving in that direction, and because I am an awesome enough big brother to indulge you. But seriously? Amityville?”
“Dude, quit being an ass. I can’t help where things pop up. And there are definite signs pointing there, you can’t deny that.”
Dean carded his fingers affectionately through his brother’s soft hair across the bench seat of the Impala to settle him down.
“You know I’d never deny you anything, baby boy. And if you say there’s a hunt, there’s a hunt. I trust you.”
Sam grinned his sun-blocking smile at Dean, leaned over and kissed his brother’s neck.
“You are the awesomest big brother ever. And if I’m wrong on this, I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”
“Hmmmmmmm. Like that time in Iowa when you did that thing with the -,” Sam cut him off there.
“Better than that. Promise. But this is for real.”
“’Houses don’t kill people. People kill people’”, Dean quoted, stifling a giggle.
Sam pinched his brother on the arm. “Shut up. Ghosts kill people too. And we kill ghosts. So we’re going.”
“Fine, but I’m not stepping a single fucking foot into that creepy ass basement”, Dean replied with a shudder. “I’m still traumatized by that shit, man.”
“Shouldn’t have watched the movie when you were eight, moron.”
They kept on heading north.