Summary: Dean and Sam are investigating what could be witches. They may get information on another player in the supernatural conflict over their world. No slash.
Disclaimer: Supernatural and the Voynich Manuscript are not mine. Druids and the Manuscript are real, but I have taken creative license (and how) with their history, meaning and purpose.
Season 6 SPOILERS, Language and violence will be depicted.
Author's Note- My husband brought my attention to an article he was reading about "The most mysterious document in the world". It was about the Voynich Manuscript and it stirred all kinds of crazy ideas in me. I did some research and there are competing and conflicting ideas about what it is and what it means. The Manuscript was carbon dated as being from the mid 1400's to the mid 1500's. The 240 vellum pages have writing that can't be decoded and pictures of plants and constellations, many of which cannot be identified. The Manuscript is currently located at Beineke Rare Book and Manuscript Library at Yale.
I know that Druids were much earlier than the VM by hundreds of years (mid to late 7th century), but I could see how many of the hypothesized subject matter of the VM related to things people might have connected to them. Draiocht are magical spells. Druidic "magic" observes nature and the natural world. Depending on where the druids originated, they were considered the Seers, teachers, bards, diplomats, magicians/sorcerers (think Merlin) and Healers among Druidic orders. Druids were very interested in maintaining a natural order. They practiced their rituals in stands of ancient woodlands. For modern Druids, I apologize in advance. I have taken license here. I welcome information, but I am not likely to change how I perceive the world in which I plop my characters.
The "Natural Order" has been a recurring theme in Supernatural and Death (the Horseman) really drove the point home with Dean in Season 6 episode 11, "Appointment in Samarra". I think these things just scream at me to weave them together in fiction. I hope you enjoy the read.
Kinna is a bastardation and feminization of the Gaelic name Cian (Keen) meaning "Ancient".
Chapter One
The night concealed little from the brightly lit streets, but as Kinna moved outside the populated area, the ambient light diminished. Her car travelled out of the village and rambled along the countryside road shrouded in blackness toward the forest. The headlamps illuminated the road for only a few feet as the fog rolled in casting the light back, making a wall of white rise in front of her. She scanned the roadside until she found a particular landmark that marked a car park. She pulled the car off the narrow stretch of road and parked. Kinna stepped from the warm confines of the automobile and pulled her lamb's wool insulated jacket tighter to her breast to protect her from the frigid northern air. This area was closed to the public but that would not keep her from her purpose. She walked to the fence-line separating the human world from the grove. The fog created a feeling of the other-world that suited her. She stopped and gazed across the terrain and saw more than the stretches of ancient pillars of hardwoods and dew covered bluebells. She looked beyond the manmade barriers and through the material world into the veil of the netherworld. She was able to view the lines of the Earth's power and the flow of magical energy. She was able to track the course of that flow and to use it.
It was unusual for one so young to be able to call the forces of magic that she can see like rivers of sunlight. It usually took a lifetime of study and practice to utilize. Kinna had been practicing magic since she was twelve. She was able to pierce the spiritual barriers to glimpse into that other world since she was nine. Her Gran was one of the first to see her potential—and the dangers of what her abilities mean. She contemplated this as she trudged through the trails manicured for human use. Kinna risked attracting the attention of the powers in Heaven, in Hell and of the Sidhe being able to do what she was able to do. Her family had been keepers of the Balance since before the time of Christ and would keep the secrets of the magical world until her line has faded into darkness, or the world has. The stars were aligning and the omens have proclaimed that the Time of Prophesy was near. She stepped off the manicured path and into the bramble undergrowth.
She had known when the first Seal was broken. She felt the tremors through the spiritual and material world. She followed the lines of energy and listened intently as the heralds proclaimed through the mists. She had tracked each of the Seals as they broke. She fretted and spoke to the others in the Circle. But, they were hidebound and refused to hear. They couldn't believe a small Ovate of sixteen could have seen what Seers in the Circle of Elders had not. The coming of the Season of Chaos could not be so soon, they told her. The Apocalypse was not due. The portents of prophesy would not come for many generations yet. She was forbidden to hear the full story of the Beginning and of the Time of Balance, but she somehow knew their secrets. So now, she was here, in the ancient wood at Foxley, the last monument of her people. This was one of the last of the Holy Places of the Druids.
Kinna climbed over bracken and the maze of branches to walk further into the of mysterious flora. She approached an area of confluence under a great oak. She approached the behemoth and chanted under her breath. She pulled out a small cloth sack from under her coat. The sky was obscured by the eddying mist but she located one of the fifteen stars that governed the beginning of the spell by using that other sight into the realms of the supernatural. She places a specific stone for each of the 5 stars governing the Earth in the circle. Black and white, green and yellow, then red. In those five points of the space, she directed energy. She walked around the outside of that circle and placed elements of creation. She places Eye of the Day, Priest's Crown, Serpent's Tongue, Heart's Ease and then Blood of Hestia in the outer circle. She directed energy into the new components. She feels a hum as the Earth and sky acknowledge the draiocht. She turns to the innermost ring. She caresses the damp ground with gentle fingertips drawing a rectangle on the ground. She takes a deep breath of the soil and loam before she continues to chant low and slow. She placed earth from her homeland, a feather from a raven, spills water from a mountain spring, and lights a coal on fire in each of four corners of a rectangular surface. In the middle of the workspace, she places a shallow silver bowl. In the bowl, she sliced open her hand and poured out her blood. As she placed the last component, symbols began to shine on the surface of the tree. The symbols were completely hidden from the eyes of mundane humans who gather here to view a remnant of an ancient time. Here, in the presence of a young and powerful druid, she lights them to reveal a secret—the secret of the Time of Chaos and how to bring Balance and Order. It reveals to her a name. She smiles.
S P N S P N S P N
Sam was waiting. Again. Always waiting. He spends a lot of his time waiting for Dean. Things have gotten better for them since his brother got Death to return Sam's soul, but he could tell that things aren't likely to ever really be the same. So, here he is sitting in the passenger seat of the Impala outside the motel room waiting. They talked about heading to South Dakota. It is cold there now and Dean hates driving in the snow, but Sam has had more headaches and he can feel the weight of the terrible injury to his soul press down on him. He worries about what would happen to Dean if they can't repair the damage. So, they plan to do what they always do when they need to work out answers. They head home… to Bobby's.
Dean emerges from the dark room and closes the door as he shrugs his leather jacket onto his shoulders. The worn leather jacket had been their dad's once upon a time. Sam was starting to understand their father so much better these days. He regrets he is unable to talk to him now. He regrets he didn't have a better relationship with him while he was alive. He always has regrets now. He looks at his brother squint against the morning sun streaming through the trees as blue shadows are cast onto the black gloss of the Impala's hood. He watches Dean pause as he takes a deep breath. Sam figures that Dean does this a lot more, too… right before having to deal with more of the same. He does it right before having to figure out how to deal with Sam. More regrets.
So, Sam waits. He will wait for Dean for as long as he needs. He vows to somehow begin to give back to his brother. Somehow. He can't begin to figure how. But, he wants to try. He told his brother of all the things he needs to repair from when he was travelling around without a soul, but he can trace the damage he has done to long before Lucifer came into the picture or losing his soul. Dean protecting his infant brother and becoming a primary caretaker for him at the age of four… Sam regrets the loss of Dean's relationship with their mother. Dean becomes protector, babysitter and peacekeeper between Sam and their father… Sam regrets the loss of Dean's childhood. Dean spends all his young adulthood trying to live up to his father's expectations, hunting and travelling the map, gives up a family with Lisa and Ben… Sam regrets the loss of a normal life for his brother. Dean gives up his soul to bring Sam back from the dead, again… Sam, Sam, Sam. This list is enormous and insurmountable. Sam regrets that Dean has lost so much because of him.
Dean opens the door with a creak and slides into the leather seat beside his brother. He looks at Sam and rolls his eyes. "What?"
Sam looks away, out the window, and shrugs.
Dean persists. He audibly sighs and asks again. "Sam. What?"
"It's nothing, Dean. Are we going or what?" Sam asks.
Dean frowns at his brother but turns his attention to the front of the car. He slides the key into the ignition and smiles as the engine turns. He looks once more at his brother staring out the side window and turns the music up. He's pleased this town has a decent radio station. So is Sam. Though he would rather listen to his own playlist, the radio is better than the stale music he has been listening to since he was a kid over and over from Dean's set of a dozen or so cassette tapes. They pull out and onto the road. The brothers travel for an hour without speaking. Dean casts an occasional glance at his brother as they head west. Sam continues to avoid looking at Dean and he has only responded with monosyllabic answers to questions posed.
"Okay, that's enough, Sam. You can't Gilbert Grape all the way back to Bobby's. What the hell is wrong?" Dean finally explodes.
Sam flinches as Dean broke the silence. He looks at Dean and sighs. "There's nothing wrong, Dean." He temporizes. "Have you heard from Bobby at all?" Dean's not interested in the attempt to change the subject. He looks hard at his younger brother. Sam sees his jaw clench and unclench.
Dean looks again at the road being devoured by the Impala's unimpeded progress. "How is your head?" he asks finally in a concerned voice.
Sam takes a long time to answer. He knows Dean has heard him at night. He still refuses to take the Percocet that Dean had managed to get for him. He shrugs. "It's not bad. I'm fine." He responds.
Dean scoffs. "You know what FINE means don't you?" He looks sideways at Sam. "Fucked up, Insecure, Neurotic and Emotional." Dean turns back to driving. He doesn't ask any more questions and Sam is glad.
They drive again with just the music playing on the radio interrupting the silence between the brothers. They had long driven out of range for any decent music stations, so they were listening to Skynyrd on tape. Sam considered resuming his scan of the empty track of countryside the Impala was speeding through when Dean's phone played his signature ringtone.
Dean looked down and handed the phone to Sam. "Bobby" lit up the screen. "Hey, Bobby. What's up?"
There was a hesitation on the line. "Bobby?" Sam asked.
"I thought I dialed Dean's number." The older hunter responded. Another regret. Sam tried to maintain a light voice, "Hold on", and clicked the speaker on the phone.
Dean looked at his brother and knew at once how he was feeling. "Yeah, Bobby. What do you got?" He asked.
"How far are you two from Massachusetts?"
Dean tilted his head as if calculating in his head how long it might take. "We can be there in about twenty hours. What's the hunt?"
"Women are disappearing from a town outside Salem. It looks like our kinda thing…" Bobby relayed.
"How many?" Sam asked.
"It looks like four right now. The women are all recent immigrants from Great Britain and there are earmarks of the weird in some of the witness statements." There was a pause and some fidgeting with the phone. "I'm sending the file to Sam's e-mail, now."
Sam leaned down and pulled out his laptop. He tethered the computer to his phone and signed on. Dean took his phone back from Sam as he was setting up the computer. He disabled the speakerphone and held it to his ear. "Is that it, Bobby?" There was a certain edge to Dean's voice that had Sam hesitate momentarily. He glanced at his brother quickly and could tell from Dean's body language that his relationship with Bobby was starting to become strained. One more regret. Add it to the pile. Pretty soon it won't be Percocet that Sam will need. It may be "effective" according to Dean, but not for the ills that are beginning to ail Sam.
Dean concluded his discussion with Bobby and hung up the phone. He waited for Sam to access his account and find the file. As the computer was doing its thing, Sam's eyes darted to assess his brother's bearing. Dean was tense and he was trying to appear relaxed. He was failing. Sam could read every tell Dean had in the set of his hands on the steering wheel, in the tension in his jaw, in the narrowing of his eyes and even from the way they "casually" would check to see the progress of the computer. Sam took the cue and busied his way through pulling up the file. He cleared his throat and attempted to act as though he wasn't really hurt, as though he didn't see how Dean was handling the deterioration of his world. Regret, regret, regret.
"The women were young… in their twenties." He reads through the information Bobby sent, looking for "the weird". "They were all abducted around Spring Equinox. The witness statements all speak of time lost. They were all in public places." Sam considers the timeline for a moment. "There was a full moon that night, too." It may not even be related. Yeah, right.
"You're thinking 'witch' aren't you?" Dean asks.
Sam shrugs. "Maybe. Guess we won't know until we get there."
Dean blew out a heavy sigh. He mutters, "I really hate witches" under his breath. He slows the Impala and pulls a one-eighty to head east. "My opinion, Salem didn't get enough of the bitches…" He continues to grumble for a while before cranking the volume up on "Still Unbroken".
A/N: Thanks for your consideration. I hope you enjoyed this first chapter. Please feel free to lurk, but I hope you will review. I don't have a problem with criticism, but please explain how I can make it better if you do. I like praise, too. Pat my head and I do the happy dance!