Chapter Three
"Are you sure you're okay? Dean demanded his hands doing a brisk, non-invasive triage. Finally after the tenth consecutive call in their short span of a conversation, Sam had picked up the violently buzzing phone and assured her brother she was ok. However, somehow Dean had turned the thirty minutes he had left and made them fifteen. Sam had just barely gotten back to the motel room herself before the impala squealed into the parking lot. Now he was here doing one of the things that may have made him Dean, but also obnoxious.
"She didn't hurt you, or plant any hex bags." Dean asked.
"Look around at the room Dean."
He finally stopped fretting over his sister and noticed items were flung off of tables and out of bags. The beds were shifted to the sides as if someone had lifted them to look under, and the comforters and sheets were in a tangled mess from her search.
"I even checked the bathroom, and the piping." She yanked a wrench out of her pocket. "Which is really gross by the way. So I am fine, there are no hex bags, and you need to stop overreacting?"
"Overreacting?" Dean scoffed adrenalin finally leaving, and causing immediate drowsiness. "I get a call interrupted by a witch, who by the way is killing people, and I'm overreacting?"
Sam smirked and played around with a business card he couldn't quite read. "Since I am a female, and she seems to be going after douche bag men, I am the safer of the two. Anyways all she wanted to do was talk."
"What did she talk about?"
Sam rubbed the back of her head awkwardly. "Oh the usual, she was explaining herself. Spewing Rosie the Riveter crap about how women are just as strong as men. Which don't let the phrasing imply that I don't believe it, just not extreme witch bitch version. Oh and she-" Sam coughed, spilling out quick "-kindaofferedmeajob…"
"Wait what?" Dean shot up from the bed he had just sat down on. "She offered you a job? She offered you a position in the coven?"
Sam only nodded.
"You did say no right?" Dean demanded. He looked at Sam's face and she blew out a sigh her eyes darting around the room. "You said yes?"
"No! I really didn't have a chance to say anything Dean. She gave me her number and told me to call her once with my answer. She told me to think about it." Sam frowned, "Which of course the answer is no."
"Why does she want you anyways?" Dean asked rubbing a hand through his head.
Sam looked up hurt. "Apparently, Stanford Brains is enough to convince her that I'm useful. When I insisted that I was a hunter she seemed to imply that my training in Latin and basic spells and chants for hunts were kind of favored. Besides it's not like I have leprosy, and am rendered useless."
"Oh shut it Susan B. Anthony, I wasn't implying that you were useless. I'm just curious why a witch wants a hunter in her coven." Dean pulled out his cell and dialed Bobby's number. "I don't want to have Power's sent to retrieve you if you decline the offer."
Dean waited while the phone rang.
"Besides, you would suck as a witch." He gave his little sister a smirk before giving, what she guessed was, a tired Bobby an apologetic greeting. "Hey Bobby, I know it's late-" Dean paused. "Yes I know it's freaking 1 in the morning."
Sam motioned Dean to put his cell back on speaker. "Hey Bobby, we kind of confirmed the theory, it is a witch."
"And how the hell did you two sleep depriving idjits do that?" Bobby ground out on the other line, just a little miffed that his sleep had been disturbed.
"Well, she met me at the bar, and sort of offered me a position in the coven." Bobby's line remained silent. "Now I fully intend to call her back and say no, however the other three women probably declined their offers too."
"Why does she think that you are in danger?" Bobby asked; sleep seeming to disappear from his tone.
"She mentioned something about hunting being a man's world, and how I was forced into it. She also knew about my short lived life at Stanford and how I was dragged back in. She seems to think that I'm brain washed by Dad and Dean." Sam rubbed her head.
Bobby sighed. "She's going to save you from the world and give you a new purpose."
"Yeah, and I'm not sure that she'll accept Sam's no." Dean frowned. "Have you dug anything up on necromancy, and how to bring down Speedy Gonzalez?"
Bobby groaned on the other line, probably getting out of bed and padding along to his expansive library. "I found a few things that I was going to share with you morons in the morning.
Dean groaned and rubbed at his eyes. "I know Bobby. I'm tired too I drove nearly five hours to prove that a dead guy that I saw alive wasn't dead, but Sam's skills had to impress some witch."
"Hey I never wanted this attention, Jerk." Sam growled.
"Please you were going all girl power after the hunt in Jacksonville, bitch. Now you just got a damn offer to go and join the freaking Spice Girls."
"Enough of this shit, you two." Bobby groused from the phone, breaking the siblings from their squabble. "None of this nonsense is helping, either of you."
xxxOOOxxx
Sam paced in the motel room. She held her cell up and looked to her older brother. Dean was busy shifting the last mattress from their double beds against the windows. The couch was placed in front of the door blockading any entrance, at least for a little while. When he was finished he turned to his sister and nodded.
Card in hand, Sam dialed the number. It didn't ring, the witch picked up immediately.
"Why hello, Samantha. Are you calling to inform me of your approval?" The voice purred over the line without even bothering to see who it was first.
"You know damn well, that's not the case." Sam griped. "I'm declining the offer."
"Oh, what a surprise, I didn't see this coming." The witch gave a mocking laugh. "Just because I'm feeling nice, I'll give you one more chance to seriously consider this opportunity. If you don't answer yes, meat head will have his head tenderized."
Sam laughed hard and long. "You thought that I hadn't considered that. You thought I turned it down without discussing the possible implications with my meat head brother. You're cute. Either way bitch, I plan on keeping my current job."
"What makes you think that I'll take no for an answer?" The witch answered back, this time with a bite to her tone. Good, Sam was getting her mad.
"I have more of a will to stay a hunter. What you didn't read on me that night at the bar is that my apple pie life died when Jesse did. And when that happened I gained a new purpose. I am going to find my dad, and then I'm going to find that Son of a Bitch Yellow Eyes and burn him, just like he did my mother and my Jesse."
"It's safer to join my coven, trust me when I say I have heard of this Yellow Eyes. You don't want to mess with him."
"I don't give a rat's ass, about safe. I'm finding my father and asking him everything he knows about that dumb ass demon. Joining your female empowerment team was never part of the plan." Sam growled her eyes locking with her brothers.
He took a quick peek outside the window and moved the mattress back. When he turned back to look at his sister he shook his head. Powers wasn't here yet.
The witch took in a calming breath. "I am old enough and patient enough that within time Samantha, you will be my second lieutenant. Think of the possibilities. Yes housewives, and teenage girls are probably the easiest to recruit, but if I can get you, and these women to come around, to see the way that I see you, we can become unstoppable. Also, do you also know how old I am? I was a temp, a secretary in Chicago- back in 1925. Did you see how I look in the bar? I look better than I did than before I was a witch."
"Wait so I should join you because I won't need anti-aging cream." Sam smirked. "Your reasons are getting worse."
"No. You should join me, because now you don't have a choice." The line clicked, and it was all too obvious that the witch was done with this conversation.
Sam pocketed the phone and looked up at her brother. "Ok I pissed her off enough. He's on his way."
Dean slipped his colt into his waistband and grabbed up his shot gun.
"Bullets, of any kind are not going to help in this situation." Sam bit out already hearing pounding footsteps outside.
"I don't intend to kill him." Dean gave the gun a pump to put a bullet in the chamber. "I intend to slow him."
Sam gave a nervous laugh and put her own gun off safety. "I don't think this will slow him as much as you intend."
"Just stick to the plan." The door pulsed inward but the couch stopped Power's from entering. Both Sam and Dean knew it wasn't going to hold long.
"THE PLAN will end up with me captured, and brainwashed by a temp from the 1920's." Sam screamed pressing her body against the couch to add more weight to the blockade.
Dean remained tense and ready but his eyes read amusement. "Temp? 1920's?"
"Oh shut up, it was part of the conversation." Sam yelled at her older brother. "Just see if we can prevent myself, from getting all witchy bitchy, and I'll let you in on all the juicy details. Now just-"
She was cut off when the couch exploded inward and landed on top of her in a pile. Power's had clear orders because rather than look at the threat with the gun, he paused and focused on the practically down and out girl just at his feet.
"HEY ASSHAT." Dean brought up his gun and fired off a shot.
While the dead man was trying to process the second person in the room, and the steaming hole in his chest, Dean yanked the couch off his little sister and dragged her a safe distance away. The man was still there when he returned his head cocked as if he was receiving some kind of mental orders.
Dean brought up his boot and gave the man a firm kick in the chest, knocking the zombie out of his thoughts, and sending him stumbling back. "Hey, turn around and leave. You have no business here. In fact I bet that you're tired of taking orders."
The man's hands balled up and contorted in fury.
"I bet it gets you so riled up that your working for a female. Females work for you right, Powers. I saw you outside the house, I saw you hitting your head and fighting the impulses. Fight them now. Don't do what she says." Dean gave the man a smirk. "I bet it will piss her off plenty."
Powers went to open his mouth, but nothing came out. He doubled over and grabbed at his head with a moan. Whatever the witch was doing, she was gaining the upper hand. Dean didn't have too much longer with the sensible version of Powers. He took a second to glance over at his prone sister, the second though he looked back the man his face met with the bloated zombie's hand. Powers lifted Dean a little off his feet, all the while Dean fighting and hitting at the impervious skin. Finally Powers flung Dean away from him, and into the wall. Dean's head smacked hard into the wall and he slid down.
Dean took in a shaky breath and tried to still his vision. He couldn't black out now. He could die, or worse, his sister could die. Now was not the time to pussy out and take a nap. "S-smy"
Powers fist met him and made the white overtake the hunter.
xxxOOOxxx
The rumbling of Metallica broke through to him first. The opening riff to Master of Puppets replayed over and over again. Finally with a groan Dean's hand scrambled for his cell and pressed it to his ear. "Yeah?"
"Dammit. I have been trying to get you for the last twenty minutes Dean. Are you and your sister ok? Did plan A go through?" Bobby broke through the fog in Dean's head.
That was right. Texas, zombie abuser boyfriend, witch- SAM! Dean shot awake and regretted it the next instant with a groan. "No- appealing to his humanity…as much as the beater had, did no good. We'll have to go to plan B."
"You sound terrible boy."
"I feel terrible." Dean pushed up against the wall and looked at the damage. The couch lay at an angle, punching a hole in the wall, the door was knocked halfway off its hinges letting in a massive draft and the windows were broken. Sam must have put up a fight. "Powers put me n' Sam through the ringer. For a dead guy he has a nasty left hook."
Bobby sighed on the line. "I take it she's gone then."
"Yeah. You have the site handy?" Dean asked stumbling over to pick up his keys from the ground.
"Let me bring it up." Bobby's furious typing overtook the sound of his voice. In about five minutes he gave a little sigh of relief. "Good thing is the tracking on her phone is still up. She is currently about six miles away from you."
"Where?" Dean started toward the impala. Afraid that they would be making a hasty retreat due to the damage Powers would wreak they had both packed up. He heard the sirens in the distance and knew the owner had made the call to the police already. He wasn't quite certain if it had been concern for the tenants, or anger at the damage, but either way Dean was long gone.
"The address matches up to an abandoned Meat Factory." Bobby told Dean.
Dean started up the engine. "Sammy and I passed it up many times. I imagine the thing has a cooler, which is perfect."
"Hey Dean. Watch out, this witch sounds like she's planned everything out to a T. If she's frisked your sister for weapons-"
"She's found Sam's phone and knows that I'm tracking her location. I know. I expect a powerful welcome committee." Dean started the engine and shot out of the parking lot and onto the road leading up to the old plant.
xxxOOOxxx
Sam tried to shake off the firm grip on her wrist but Power's hold was just too strong. The witch followed behind, content to let her undead lackey do the hard work.
"You let me go." Sam squirmed; her feet dragging on the slippery tile floors. "This isn't right and you know it."
The witch smiled. The echo of her laughter beat out the smart click of her heels. "Right? You don't realize how right this is. I am trying to help the female population."
"There are better ways. Plan a march, don't resort to kidnapping."
Powers stopped at a wood door. The witch came forward and pulled a key from her cleavage. She opened the door and flickered on the light. Three terrified eyes looked over at the party of three. Megan, Maya, and Rachel were trussed up to old chairs in the center of the room. Desks and filling cabinets were pushed to the side of the room.
"When we get back on the road, after Meat Head is taken care of, you'll find less accommodating conditions. Just to warn you I have a trailer hitched up to my van." The witch dragged over a chair and motioned Powers to put Sam into it.
Despite the admirable fight Sam was forced down and tightly bound to the wooden chair. When the witch got to Sam's hand she made a motherly sound of concern. Embedded in her left palm was a shard of glass. After Dean had been knocked unconscious Sam hadn't gone without a fight. A mattress had fallen and Sam had broken a window with her fist when she had been fighting off the zombie. The shard must have become attached some time after that.
"That looks like it hurts Samantha." The witch purred. Rather than pull it out and clean the wound however, Sam hissed at the sensation of it digging further into her palm. "Well you shouldn't have fought me. You don't know how much it pains me to have to restrain my future coven. But for you hunter, you made your own fate."
Sam struggled but her feet were tied down to each leg, and her hands were tied behind her. She gave another hiss as the coarse rope tightened. The witch used one last loop to tie Sam's torso down.
"You bitch." Sam bit out viciously. "I defended myself. Isn't that part of what you like about me?"
"Yes of course, but you need to direct that fire towards our collective enemy. And that's what you'll have to learn." The witch fussed with the hunter's ropes no longer. "With that out of the way let me introduce myself. Carla Rivers. We'll get to know each other well over the coming years. I would go on about the future coven of ours, powers you can expect, and spells, but I have no time."
Carla smirked and bent down to wave Sam's phone in her face. "You and your brother thought you would use the tracking device on your phone. You both should have known better. Now Meat Head will be tenderized quicker than I was planning. But I don't mind really, that just means we can leave town sooner."
The witch cocked her head and smiled listening to something distant. "And I believe that old '67 impala engine would be him."
Sam glared at the witch not saying a word.
"Maxwell, do be a dear and give Mr. Winchester our most inviting welcome." Carla waved at the door, and Powers thumped off. Before leaving the room and shutting off the lights Carla turned back to look at the four women. "Try and get some rest. We'll be traveling by daylight."
Once the lights were out and the door closed Sam hesitated. Only until the clicking heels were no longer audible Sam made no time in wrenching out the shard from her hand.
"My brother and I are here to help. Sit tight and I'll have all of you out in a few minutes." Sam started sawing at the rope with the glass, keeping a careful hold on it. The blood in her hands was making her grip very slippery.
"Yeah!" One of the girls complained. Sam couldn't tell who due to the dark. "And Jim Carey is going to come in and tickle my balls."
Sam ignored the stupid comment. She stayed focused on releasing her hands.
"Shut up, Megan." Another said. "What do you mean get us out?"
"My brother is tracking my location-" Sam inhaled in pain as the shard slid across her wrist "-and I kinda stabbed my hand with some glass in case there were ropes involved, so I'm cutting myself loose right now."
"You heard the witch; your brother is walking into a welcome with my ex. My undead ex." Megan groused. "And what if there hadn't been ropes involved? What moron imbeds glass in their hand for the convenience? What if the witch took that thing out, what then?"
Sam finally heard the rope snap and she started muscling her arms to a forward position to cut the ties around her torso. "Figured I pissed her off enough, to make me want to suffer a little bit. And it worked this moron just got their hands free; which is more than you have done in the last month of your captivity." She kept working rubbing methodically on the coarse rope around her torso. "Plus I always have at least two bobby pins in my hair in case there are shackles or chains involved."
"Who the hell are you?"
Sam smirked at the question. "I'm a hunter."