The Curse: Chapter 2
A/N: I was going to post this on Monday, but I can't wait so here it is! Also, because I have yet to say this, I feel obliged to inform everyone that I do not own Supernatural or the characters. Just in case there was any confusion ;p Also thank you so much to Kathy, Heartless BytchhakaHelenBach1, annasandhofer, and RowerLovesAstronomy for the reviews. Thanks also to those who have faved and followed. I am really having fun with this story and hope you enjoy where I am taking it.
Sam sighed as he walked into the motel room and set his numerous library books on the table. He was followed by Dean and Cas, one of which plopped himself on the "magic fingers" bed and the other moved to stare forlornly out the smudged window. Silence filled the room and stretched a small amount of time into seemingly forever. Sam looked from one man to the other in frustration.
Dean had refused to speak during dinner at the diner, insisting that he needed sustenance before they tackled whatever new and impossibly frustrating bad luck they had now stumbled into. It had resulted in an irritated Cas, pinching up his lips and refusing to look back in Dean's direction since. On top of whatever spell they had to deal with, Sam was going to have to play mediator for his hunter brother and angel friend. Boy, was this going to be a fun time. He positioned himself between the two, readying himself for the ensuing conversation.
"Guys, we need to figure out what's happening with the two of you." Silence greeted him from Dean while a small 'harrumph' came from Cas. Well, off to a great start. "This could potentially be really dangerous to you both. Cas, is it possible that your powers have been affected by this spell, or whatever it was?"
"Yes." Well at least he got a word this time.
"Do you know how it's affecting you?"
"No. But I have been noticing a considerable decrease in strength and – I have started to feel quite weak." Cas cleared his throat self-consciously. This seemed to grab Dean's attention as he swung his legs over the bed and sat up to look at Sam.
"Any ideas how to fix this?"
"We don't even know what this is. We need to do some research and find some answers before we can do anything else. For starters, we need to figure out the extent of the connection between the two of you. Is it limited to small inflictions or wounds? What if one of you gets severely hurt? Does that mean both of you are down for the count? I mean, what if one of you died? God, would you both die?!" Sam's stomach clenched at the thought. The thought of either one of them dying was enough to break Sam's heart, but both of them in one fell swoop? He couldn't even imagine. He sat at the table and opened his laptop to begin looking for some information. "We need to know how serious this is, Dean."
"Maybe it was just a fluke." Hope rang through his voice as Dean reached in his pocket to produce his knife. He flipped open the small blade and brought it to his hand.
"What are you doing?"
Dean dragged the knife across his palm leaving a trail of blood springing through his open skin. A croak came from Cas, who had still been gazing out into the dark, as his fingers curled inwards and he raised his hand to look at the blood now welling up. He swung around, displeasure clear on his face. "It was not a fluke," He growled out. Dean raised his good hand in contrition and mumbled something about it being worth a shot.
"Sammy, what did you find before we got whammied? Anything that would lead you to thinkin' witch?"
"Actually, yes." Sam looked at Dean above his laptop screen. "Turns out, the house is a few hundred years old and, at one point, was owned by a lady named Beatrix Sands. Sands was rumoured to have been a witch because of some strange things that would happen around the town, but there was never any proof. During the Salem trials at the end of 1692, proof wasn't exactly necessary though, and the people of the town attempted to hunt her down, but she disappeared without a trace before they could."
"No one knows what happened to her?"
"Nope. There were rumours that she locked herself in the house to perform some type of spell over the town. Now, I'm thinking that either the spell went sideways, because nothing ever happened to the town, or the rumour mill was wrong. Either way, she was never seen again and I'm betting she died in the house. But I don't know what happened to her bones. Maybe she's still in the house? Maybe she's tied to something else. There's really no way to know at this point."
"Why would she just now resurface?"
"Well, the house went into disrepair for awhile before a wealthy businessman bought it and fixed it up. From then on, it has just been passed on and sold, the only complete renovation happening when our couple, the Sutterfields, purchased it. My guess is that their renovations unearthed something and released the spirit of Sands. Not only would that explain the death of Cam Sutterfield, but that might also explain the presence of your witch."
"Ok, well that's a start. Nice work, Sammy. Tomorrow we need to head back over to the house and try to figure out if she is tied to something or if her bones are still around somewhere. We'll need to do a little poking around. We told the wife to get out of town for time being, so we'll have free rein of the place."
"Aren't you forgetting about the hex? We still don't know how that's going to affect you guys." Sam was concerned that Dean did not seem concerned about his and Cas' current condition. This was not something that they could just gloss over and he wasn't going to let them ignore it.
"We'll be fine, Sammy!"
"Dean." Sam protested.
"Sam." Dean responded in kind. He stressed his next words. "We will be fine. Won't we Cas?" Dean looked over and the angel when he didn't receive a response. Cas had gone back to looking out the window, gloom rolling off his posture. "Dude. Nothing out in the parking lot is that interesting."
Sam realized that losing his powers, yet again, was probably weighing on Cas because before today he had been pretty chipper. But it seemed like he was always taking one step forward and two steps back in that regard. After having heaven's power at his disposal for millenniums, then being cut off nearly completely would be enough to knock anyone off their game. But when it was so wishy-washy – such a roller coaster ride of having powers and then not having powers… he was entitled a moody night or two. He tried to bring the attention off Cas to allow him at least a modicum of privacy.
"Dean, all I'm saying is that I think we need to proceed with caution. One surprise has already happened, we don't need anymore." Dean's concerned eyes slid from Cas' form at the window and back to Sam. His look had turned from annoyed to serious.
"Yeah, yeah, I know. We are going to deal with this. If, and when, we figure out what it is and what to do about it. Until then, all we can do is work this case like normal." Dean sighed. "Now if you don't mind, I'm gonna get some shuteye. I think I've earned it after today."
Sam turned back to his research as Dean flopped back on the bed. One question might be partially solved, but it was the other, much larger question that was niggling at Sam's brain. Leave it to Cas and Dean to get hexed by a witch while hunting a ghost of a witch. Whatever this connection was between them now, it was bound to end up as trouble for the both of them. Sam felt the weight of responsibility to figure out how to undo it resting squarely on his shoulders. This was going to be a long night.
….
Dean awoke feeling extremely groggy. His temples throbbed slightly, the only indication of his purple electrocution yesterday. "Oof." He sat up and caught Cas' eyes from the table across the room. He had apparently joined Sam in his research at some point, both of them working late on some much needed answers to this case. Sam's face was planted into a book that was lying open on the table in front of him, mouth slightly agape in sleep.
"Good morning, Dean." There was an abnormal, rumpled look to Cas, his attire wrinkly and hair sticking in several directions. He looked exhausted and maybe in a little pain if his squinted eyes were any indication.
"Mornin'." He rested his elbows on his knees and rubbed at his temples. "Say, out of curiosity, you got a headache?" He peered through his fingers in Cas' direction.
"Yes. Are you asking because we were unconscious for several hours yesterday or because of our apparent physical connection?"
"Whoa, dude," Dean protested. "Please, don't say it like that. But yeah, whatever… either I guess."
"It is somewhat disconcerting to be aware that what I am feeling, you are also feeling."
Another complaint about Cas' word choices died on Dean's tongue as Sam began to stir. As he adjusted his position and began to sit upright, a creaking sound came from the chair along with several pops from his back and neck. He grimaced and reached up to massage his shoulder, slowly blinking the sleep from his eyes. He looked at the book in front of him, brows slightly furrowed as if the book had offended him.
"Morning sunshine. Sleep well?" Dean put some pep into his morning greeting to add an extra annoyance. He chuckled when he received a scowl in return. "I'm thinkin' we could all use some coffee. How about I make a food run and we'll make a plan when I get back?" Without waiting for a consensus, he grabbed up his jacket and keys and dashed out the door into the sunshine.
Only when he was on the road driving towards town did he allow himself a moment for a deep breath and a colossal sigh. Since he was alone he could finally admit to himself that he was worried. How did they get themselves into predicaments like this? This really put a chink into his plans. Not only did he have to worry about himself on this hunt, but he also had to worry about Cas. I mean if Dean usually got hurt on a hunt it was no big concern, he could suck it up and deal. But now, if he got hurt then so did Cas and that changed things. He felt a whole lot more responsibility weighing on his shoulders, more than normal even.
Dean was as much into self-preservation as the next guy, but when it came to protecting his family, that generally went out the window. This situation was unique in that self-preservation was exactly what would protect one member of his family. What a confusing concept. He really didn't know how to deal with this or how he would be able to hunt normally. Well, he wouldn't be able to hunt like normal, he would have to be careful.
His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a jolt of pain through his head. "Ugh." He rubbed his temples with one hand, steering with the other and made a mental note to grab some aspirin on the way. Another shock through his skull caused Dean to cry out in the solitude of his car. His vision began to swim and black spots danced around his periphery. This is so not good. He hadn't driven very far yet, so he quickly swung the impala around to head straight back to the motel. He couldn't afford to crash his car because he wasn't seeing straight. He just hoped he wouldn't pass out on the way.
The pain in his head began to ease as he pulled back into the parking lot and he started breathing easier as a result. He moved the gear shift into park and leaned forward as he groaned and rested his forehead on the steering wheel. A quick rap on the window startled him, causing him to jump and swing his head towards the offender. Concerned eyes greeted him in the form of his brother as he opened the driver's door.
"Dean. Are you ok?"
"Ugh, I'm not sure. How did you know to come out here?"
"Cas. He was in pain, complaining about his head when he almost passed out. Current circumstances being what they are I figured the same thing might be happening to you. He started getting better when I heard you pull up." There was a heavy pause that made Dean feel uncomfortable before he continued. "Dean, I have a theory and you're not gonna like it."
Fifteen minutes later and the three companions were standing in the middle of a large, empty field. The pain had subsided enough so that Dean felt ridiculous and, in his head, was cursing all witches that ever existed with very colourful language. A few knowing glances exchanged with Cas told him that he felt the same way.
"You want us to do what now?" His disapproval dripped from every word rewarding him with a pissy look from his brother.
"You might not be taking this seriously, but I am. Now," he motioned with both arms, pointing in opposite directions, "off you go." Dean gave one more petulant huff before he obeyed his brother's command and began walking east while Cas began walking west.
After about forty steps, Dean turned around and threw up his hands, but Sam yelled at him to go farther. He dutifully performed his orders and continued walking. Another forty steps or so and he felt a sharp jab throughout his head, quickly followed by lightning down his spine. He cried out and fell to his knees. He attempted to stand back up only to be knocked to the ground by a stabbing sensation throughout his body. Black impeded his vision and he felt himself sway and fall the rest of the way to the grass, lying on his side and blinking sluggishly. He was about to lose consciousness or dinner and he didn't know which was worse.
In the distance, he heard Sam calling his name and he tried to respond, but could get no more than a slight whimper forced from his throat. He must have lost time for a moment, because all of a sudden he was being hauled up by some very grabby hands that had a hold of his belt loop and under his armpit. Being upright did not agree with him and Dean nearly toppled forward. His attempt at protesting this development fell short as another small mewl came out and, had he been slightly more aware, Dean would have been embarrassed at the pathetic sound.
There was another short lapse of awareness before the fog started to dissipate from Dean's mind and the pain that had been freely flowing through his body began to abate. He was able to take on more of his own weight instead of being hoisted forward and he detected movement directly ahead of them. Cas was slowly rising from a crumpled position on the ground, pain etched into his face and eyes glazed. This was SO not good. Dean removed himself from his brother's grip so that Sam could help Cas to a standing position.
"Well that answers that question." Sam looked between the two men, his face pinched in a troubled expression. "The two of you can't be separated. Whatever the connection is involves proximity as well as physical inflictions."
Dean met Cas' uneasy gaze and sighed. "Awesome." He rubbed his throbbing temples as a heavy stone landed hard in his gut. He was starting to realize the extent of this problem and it did not sit well. "That seem worse to you than before when I drove off?"
"Yes. The pain was much greater."
"Yeah."
"What are we going to do?"
"Well, for starters – you're my new, best friend."
"I've always been your best friend."
Dean rolled his eyes and smirked while Sam chuckled beside them. "Yeah man, but now we're inseparable. Like besties." He clapped a hand on Cas' shoulder and began to steer him back towards the impala. Dean was worried, that much was sure, but if he had to be connected to anyone, he was glad it was Cas. They could figure this out. They would be ok. Or at least he would keep telling himself that until it came true.
Thank you again for reading. Take a sec and review. Let me know what you think will happen next!
