Dean

Rain beat down on the windshield, making the road in front of me barely visible. Had it not been for the severity of the situation, I would have just pulled over at some motel to wait it out. We didn't have that luxury, though. Scratch that, I didn't have that luxury. Sam couldn't give a rat's ass what we did. I glared at him as he looked at his phone in the passenger's seat.

Our talk with Death hadn't been prosperous. Sam still didn't have his soul and we'd hit a dead end. I wasn't willing to give up, even if all signs pointed to 'Shit Outta Luck'. When Bobby called to say he had a crazy idea, I was on it, no matter how crazy he thought it may be.

I could barely hear the sound of my tires displacing the gravel of the drive as we made it up to Bobby's house. I could see his lights through the rain. Comfort washed over me. I tried to not get my hopes up, but every part of me hoped that whatever he was about to suggest would put my brother right.

"Bout time you got here," he greeted as we walked inside.

"Couldn't help it. I was driving half blind for most of the trip." I took my wet jacket off and hung it on the hook coming out of the wall, Sam following suit. He didn't even bother with starting conversation anymore, just speaking when spoken to. "So what's this idea you had?"

"Well nice catching up with you, too," he huffed, rolling his eyes. "Follow me." We made our way into his study and sat down. A bottle of whiskey and three glasses were waiting on his desk. He poured one for each of us and motioned us to take a seat.

"Must be real intense if you're trying to get me relaxed first."

"You ain't gonna like what I'm suggesting." He took a gulp, drinking from his glass like he was doing shots at a frat house.

"Come on, Bobby. Out with it."

"Fine. Voodoo." He looked at me expectantly, waiting for some sort of reaction.

"Voodoo," I repeated with a furrowed brow. "You mean dark magic." He knew I didn't mean it as a question. There was no question about it. Voodoo was on the side of the spectrum we fought against.

"Don't get too ahead of yourself, jumpin' to conclusions like that. I knew you wouldn't like it, but I wouldn't suggest it if I didn't have an in."

"One, since when did you join the dark side, and two, why do you have an 'in'?"

"It ain't all dark. And I wouldn't know about these girls had it not been for your dad."

"Dad never mentioned Voodoo. Not in any of the years we hunted together."

"Maybe not to you, but he knew a family. Trusted them. He told me about them a few times, but warned that they were strictly last resort options. Since Death didn't work it, looks to me like we've hit that last resort."

"I don't know about this, Bobby. You're asking me to trust some black magic freaks with Sammy's soul. Who are they even? Some backwoods Voodoo Priests?"

"Priestesses. And as far as I know, they're far from backwoods."

"Priestesses?"

"They come from a long line of matriarchal practitioners, stretching back to the 1800s. They're in deep, boy. If you do this, you have to be up for whatever it entails." The serious look on his face caused me to take a drink. Bobby was a stern, down-to-business man, but I'd only ever seen him like this a few times in my life. I had to think for a second.

"You really think there's a shot with this? And that we're out of options aside from this?"

"They deal with stuff that we ain't even touched on. Otherworldly in a sense we know nothing about."

"You didn't answer me. Are they the last choice we have?"

"If you want Sam back to his pre-hell self, I believe so."

"Fine. You got an address."

"Nope. Just a name and place. Beauchamp's in New Orleans." He wrote the name down for me and walked it over. "Now get some sleep. You can head out tomorrow."

"Thanks, Bobby. I mean it."

"No problem. I want him back, too." He gave my shoulder a squeeze and then looked at Sam. "Don't try and kill us in our sleep, got it?" Bobby gave Sam a look that could break even a soulless man. He returned the warning with a nod and, with that, Bobby walked out of the room.

"I know you don't care, but we're getting you back, Sammy." I stood and didn't look at him as I followed Bobby's lead and headed to the spare bedroom.

Seraphina

Midnight margaritas were the best, especially after the day we had. Love spells were a horrible waste of our time, but they did bring in a little extra money. Delphine was cutting limes and humming a weird song I'd never heard her sing before. Her knife fell to the floor and I looked over to her, a dazed look on her face. She was seeing something, something only she could see.

"What is it," I asked, grabbing at her arm.

"The Winchester boys have decided to pay us a visit, and with them comes Hell. We should probably rest, for I see that we won't be getting a lot in the next couple of days." She broke from her trance and gave a weak smile. She pulled away and turned towards her room. John Winchester's boys were coming and all I could think of was how I thought he would never send his boys to us.

Seraphina

We closed the shop since we knew they were coming and we didn't want any interruptions. In our line of work, people sought us out all of the time, so we couldn't risk the distraction. Delphine was doodling in her notebook, humming that same song from the night before.

"What the hell are you humming? I can't place it!" She just smiled and looked back down at her notebook, continuing to hum that damn rock song. It sounded like a song I had heard before. I huffed, annoyed at not knowing.

"Calm down. It's Back in Black, silly. They'll be here soon. I don't understand why you're fretting so much. Besides, they're totally gorgeous." She giggled and I threw my hands in the air. She was such a little girl at times. Something big and bad was coming our way, something that could do damage to us, and she was giggling like a school girl.

"They're gorgeous? Are you serious?! That's what's on your mind? Not what in the hell they're doing coming here?" I knew she didn't care like I did. She never did. My carefree little sister; the world was her play ground. I felt it all of a sudden. Anger, confusion, nothing. That one was weird. I'd never felt nothing before, even from the dead.

"Something isn't right." Delphine heard it before I got the words out of my mouth. The engine of an Impala is very distinctive. They were here.

Dean

I slammed the car door, annoyed at how long it had taken us to find this damn shop. Unfortunately for us, Beauchamp wasn't an uncommon name in New Orleans. We'd even tried Googling the name alongside Voodoo to no avail. It wasn't until after bribing some shady folks that I was given a street name. Dumaine. Once I had that, it took no time at all.

Sam followed behind me like an ominous shadow as I walked up to the shop front. A 'Closed' sign was hung on the glass of the front door, but the lights were on and I could have sworn I'd seen movement inside. I knocked on the glass hard enough to rattle the large windows on either side of the door.

"Hello? I know someone's in there. Open up," I said loud enough for anyone inside to hear me. I continued knocking until I saw a pissed off looking woman walking towards the door. Her violet hair was pulled up into a bun on top of her head, missed pieces hanging around her tanned face. Symbols of different kinds were tattooed on various spaces of her visible skin. Aside from the scrunched brow, her skin was smooth, no lines to be seen. To say the least, she looked nothing like I'd imagined. We glared at each other as she unlocked the door. I couldn't help but feel both admiration and uneasiness.

"If you can't keep it in your pants, you can't come in, Winchester." She stepped aside as I processed what she'd said. Continuing my glare, I walked over the threshold, Sam still acting as my shadow. The purple-haired woman looked us over for a moment, poker face on. After a moment, her eyes finally settled on Sam. "You're not all here, are you?" Sam's eyes narrowed at her correct accusation.

"Bobby called you," I asked.

"Bobby? We don't know a Bobby. My sister saw you in a vision."

"Of course she did. As if this whole thing isn't weird enough."

"Don't get snippy with me. Remember, you came to us for whatever reason. Not the other way around. When you're on our terf, you'll respect us, got it?" I could tell by the sound of her voice that there was no arguing with her. I gave a nod. "Good. Now come with me to the back. Delphine is making lunch. I'm Seraphina, by the way."

"I'm Dean Winchester, and this is my brother, Sam." She guided us through a couple of isles and down a small flight of stairs to a doorway blocked by a curtain with symbols I'd never seen before painted on it.

"I know. Your dad had mentioned you in the past when he came to see our grandmother. He was never too happy to be around us for too long, so I never expected to see the two of you 'round here."

"Desperate times."

"I figured. You'll have to fill me in. Delphine here seems to know, but won't spill." She nodded to a girl with similar tattoos setting the table in the middle of the room. Aside from the symbols and a couple of shared features, she couldn't have been more different than her sister. She was a good few inches shorter and her long red hair fell in loose curls, stopping midway down her pale arms. She looked up from beneath her glasses and grinned at me.

"Nice to finally meet you, Dean. And you, too, Sam." She gave him a wink and continued placing dishes. Seraphina helped, speeding up the process, and we were all soon seated around the table, sweet tea in our glasses and Po-boys on our plates. My growling stomach went wild when I saw it. Both girls laughed, obviously sharing in something Sam and I weren't a part of.

"What?" I hated being the butt of someone's joke.

"Go ahead and eat it, Dean. You'll like it. Promise." Delphine smiled before taking a drink of her tea.

"Just eat. Even if I couldn't feel your emotions, I'd be able to tell how hungry you are by the drool pouring out of your mouth." Seraphina laughed before taking a bite of her own sandwich. I looked over at Sam, he was already well into his.

"Whatever," I mumbled before taking a bite. Damn, was it good.

"Told you," Delphine bragged. I rolled my eyes. This was not how I'd expected the start of this trip to go.

We ate in relative silence. The sisters kept glancing at each other and smiling. The Delphine girl kept staring at Sam, causing me to wonder what her issue was.

"So what did you mean by 'she knows but won't spill'?" My question was aimed towards Seraphina, but I pointed at the redhead.

"First off, it's rude to speak with your damn mouth open. And second, her name is Delphine, and you will address her as such." It was clear that she was protective. I could respect that. She took a drink of her tea when she saw that she'd gotten her point across. "To explain it in layman's terms, Delphine here can see the past, present, and near future. She can also see things we can't, unlike myself. I can feel what others around me are feeling. Like right now, Dean, you're angry and intrigued, and also you want to know if the tattoos I have are all over my body." She said with a big smile.

"It really is okay, Dean. We can help." Delphine smiled, the whole time looking at Sam. "Why don't you two go talk things over, Sam and I can discuss the weather or something." A smirk found it's way onto her face. Sam looked right at her. It was strange, like this redheaded girl had broken through for just a second, allowing me to see my brother, not the shell that he had been since Hell.

"Okay, lead the way." I stood and followed her to another room, which had nice, plush looking chairs and a small table. It smelled good; nothing too girly. I wondered what it was, as I had smelled it before as a child.

"It's jasmine and a few other flowers and oils," she said sitting down, pointing to the other chair. "So, Dean Winchester, what seems to be your problem, other than the fact that your brother doesn't have a soul?"

"Wait, how did you know that..."

"I couldn't get a read off him at all. I can get reads off of dead people, Dean. If I can't read him, then the only thing it means is he doesn't have a soul. Am I correct in saying that?" She looked up, her hazel eyes looking more gold than anything.

"Yes, that is correct, he doesn't have a soul. It's a long story, so, in a nutshell, we came to you to get it back." I looked anywhere but her.

"Where exactly is Sam's soul, Dean?" She knew I'd left out a key piece of information.

"In the cage with Lucifer."

She stood and I could practically see the anger flooding out of every pore on her body. "What you are asking isn't some small favor! This is the devil we're talking about! And a cage that was built to hold him for all of time. You-you just want us to bust in and steal Sam's soul back? This isn't like we go to a bank and rob it. This is huge, and I'm telling you it isn't something that can easily be done, if it can even be accomplished at all! And can you look me in the damn eyes when I am yelling at you?" My head snapped up at her request. She was looking at me with a curiosity that I had not experienced before.

"Um...well, that's kind of why we came here. You're our last resort. Death couldn't help and Castiel couldn't help. I am at a loss. Bobby told us that my dad said your family was for last resorts. I am asking for your help." The whole time I never looked anywhere but in her eyes. They were ever changing.

"Just one question before I answer you. Do you know that if, and that is a big if, we get your brother's soul back, he still might not be whole ever again? Are you prepared for that?"

"Yes, I am. I just need some version of the old Sam back. Anything will be better than Robo-Sam," I confessed with a sad smile on my lips.

"Well, okay then. Let's see what we can do." She sat back in the chair across from me grinning ear to ear. "This could be fun."

I didn't think any of this would be fun, but she looked so sure that I had to admit that it would be kind of neat to see what these women could do. There were still so many unanswered questions, though, like how did they know my dad? And most importantly, how in the hell were they going to get Sam's soul out of the cage.