Post by StoryGirl83 on Sept 21, 2013 23:21:07 GMT -5
Chapter Thirty-Five - Endings and Beginnings
It was late the next afternoon when Sam and Dean set out. They would have stayed longer, but two things had happened. The police had finally been contacted by the paramedics who had found the rest of the survivors and so there was an investigation into what on earth had happened. The brothers had not wanted to be involved. The second was a phone call from Bobby. He’d heard about something that seemed mighty strange. It was closer to them than it was to him, so he’d called them. He’d actually been calling them for two days and had grown fairly worried. He’d finally resorted to calling the third phone they kept on them, their dad’s cell. It was this that had worked.
They’d said their goodbyes to the various Halliwells, mostly to the two boys and their grandfather. Everyone was rather stuffed into the small apartment as they dealt with rotten food in the refrigerator at the manor and turning back on all the utilities.
Phoebe had raided the manor of every pillow and most of the blankets, since Victor didn’t have nearly enough to cover them. She’d insisted that no one was going to sleep on the floor without at least a blanket and a pillow . . . and then she’d gone and confiscated the couch. When Victor gave his bed up for his married daughter and her husband, siting the fact that Leo had slept on the floor for seven years, she ended up on the floor anyway. There was no way she was going to get away with letting her sixty plus year old dad sleep on the floor. Of course, neither could the two boys let him sleep on the couch. It had gone on and on for a while, but ultimately Phoebe had slept on the floor.
Prue had gone into the basement to see if there was anything among the ruble that had survived. Much of her stuff had been packed down there and she really wanted to change into something else.
Paige had spent the morning visiting with her aunt and uncle. From what they had heard when she called just before they left, she was going to be staying there for a while. She’d return at some unspecified time in the future.
Piper had spent the morning cooking for everyone. Both Winchester brothers agreed it was the best food they had eaten in a long time. After that she had snuggled next to her husband and done an amazingly poor job as a team with him against their preteen sons in several board games. When Dean and Sam had prepared to leave, she’d been going with her family to check out her club. Over the last several years, Victor had kept it open and running for the boys, never believing that he would get his daughters back, believing they were most likely dead.
Victor had left them with an invitation to visit if they ever found themselves back in San Francisco. Though they figured that was unlikely, as much as they travelled, they agreed to try and look up the family if they did.
The drove in silence for a while. When they had reached the edge of town, Sam spoke up. “You ever think we’d be working with witches instead of fighting them?”
“Are you sure they were witches?” Dean asked instead of answering. “That may call themselves that, but they sure aren’t like any witches I’ve ever dealt with.”
“Pretty sure, Dean,” Sam informed him with an amused smile. “I mean what’s not witchlike about them. They use spells. They brew potions.”
“They disappear in twinkling lights,” Dean retorted. “What witch does that?”
“To be fair,” Sam returned, “they all said that wasn’t a witch thing.”
“Right,” Dean gave him a look. “Well, how about the telekinesis or whatever it is that kid did to steal desert from me. What about that?”
“Seems we’ve only run into nonmagical witches,” Sam replied, trying to avoid thinking of the witches they had met, Ruby and the four dead housewives who practiced witchcraft introduced to them by a demon in their book club. “And had those we met been magical, they wouldn’t have been witches at all, or at least some of them wouldn’t have been, because they used witchcraft for evil and . . .”
“That’s a load of crap,” Dean interrupted.
“Yeah?” Sam returned. “Well, it happens to be true.”
“Just ‘cause they said so,” Dean gave his brother a look of disbelief.
“Of course not,” Sam denied. “I did some research and I’ll do more. People like them are potential allies. I want to know how to identify them. I think it’s simply that they are two separate groups with similar practices, one who derives power from within and one who derives power from an outside source, in the case of those we met, a demon, but no always, because Chris said nonmagical witches can be good or bad and I suspect he’d know.”
“Well, we are done with them,” Dean decided, “done with witches . . .”
“Unless we come to San Francisco, again,” Sam interrupted. “I am not going to give up the chance for more of Piper’s cooking. That was amazing.”
“Yeah, it was, wasn’t it,” Dean admitted.
Seeing a street sign announcing a split in the road, Sam glanced around for a map. Not seeing one he started digging in the glove department. He pulled out a map of the area and looked over at Dean. “So did you get directions to that . . . Woah!”
Dean slammed on the breaks just in time to avoid hitting a body in the road. They got out and ran around the car as fast as they could. Sam reached him first and was reaching down to feel for a pulse when a gasp escaped his lips. “Cas!”
“What?” Dean looked at him confused before realization hit him. “Really?” The mud soaked body in front of him bore little resemblance to the angel that had helped them off and on over the last few years. At least he saw no sign of blood. But then considering what he’d done to Castiel when they first met without anything happening, they should have really surprised him.
Sam ignored him as he checked Castiel.
Castiel moaned.
Dean gulped. “Cas, are you all right?”
“Where have you been?” Sam added as he moved away, confident that whatever was going on, Castiel was fine.
Dean must have realized this, too, because his next question was, “When are you going to stop leaving without warning us first?”
To this Sam added, “Are you going to stick around for a while?”
Castiel pushed him up and in his usual unworried tone claimed, “I’ll be fine. I’ve been trying to find you for almost two days. What happened?”
Sam and Dean looked at each other. Neither of them had any clue where to start.
“It’s a long story,” Sam admitted. He straightened himself up to a standing position.
“Let’s get you in the car and we’ll exchange tales,” Dean suggested. He fully intended to hear Castiel’s story first.
Castiel had other ideas. “Mine can wait,” he informed them as he climbed to his feet. “You’re obviously headed somewhere.”
Sam gave a little shrug at that. There was no use fighting fate. At least not today there wasn’t. Tomorrow, who knew. “You know how it is. Never a day off in the life of a Hunter.”
The End