Chapter 4
"Alright, quiz time," Dean announced. Sam groaned and Bri flopped her head back against the seat.
"What this time?" Bri whined.
"Basic hunter knowledge, I want to see how connected you are," Dean replied. He turned the Impala off 80 and into a small town.
"Alright, shoot," Bri decided.
"How do you kill a wendigo? How are wendigos created? What weapons are useful against Wendigos? And how often do they need to feed?" Dean asked.
"What the hell is a Wendigo? " Bri questioned one eyebrow raised.
"A wendigo is a monster that is created when a human goes cannibalistic. You kill 'em with fire. Flare guns or flame throwers work well. You see the signs about every fifty five years. Supposed 'grizzly attacks' leave hunters and hikers missing. Basically, don't take them on alone," Sam explained. Bri scribbled away in her journal, making sure she had the information for later.
"Darn,"Bri grumbled. She shifted in her seat slightly.
"Maybe something easier. What will incapacitate a vampire but not kill it? Dean questioned.
"Dead man's blood," Bri responded sharply.
"Nice job. Who is Bobby Singer?" Sam asked.
"Who?" Bri questioned.
"You've never met Bobby?" Dean pried incredulous.
"No, should I have?" Bri responded.
"That's it! We're going to Bobby's right now!" Dean decided as he pushed down on the accelerator harder.
"Holy crap!" Bri exclaimed as the speedometer pushed one hundred miles per hour.
Bobby heard the familiar purr of Dean's Impala. He wheeled away from the desk where he was researching the apocalypse. After diluting two beers with holy water he waited for the brothers to barge through the door.
"Hey Bobby, we brought a friend!" Dean called as the screen door banged open. The two brothers walked in along with a teenage girl. Her brown hair fell in two plaits over her shoulders and her parka was draped loosely over her arm. A camouflage sweatshirt hid her narrow frame and her jeans were fraying at the edges. Her Timberland boots were well worn and tightly laced.
"Who the hell are you?" Bobby asked.
"Bri Wilson, nice to meet you," the teen–Bri– replied. Bobby pulled out a flask of holy water and splashed it in her face.
"I'm not a demon. Or a shifter," Bri commented as she wiped the fluid off her face. She pulled a silver knife out of her belt and rolled her sleeve up past her elbow. Her light olive skin was a web of the scars and burns that came along with being a hunter. She drew the knife across her inner arm near her elbow. She bit back a hiss as the one inch incision began to bleed.
"Alright, you're good," Bobby decided as he handed Bri a clean rag.
"She's a hunter. Yet she had never even heard of you. We couldn't let that stay that way," Sam announced as he took a swig of his beer.
"How'd you boys meet her?" Bobby requested.
"She killed a werewolf on a hunt before we did," Sam explained.
"Really, this tiny thing beat you boys to a kill?" Bobby asked shocked.
"I'm right here you know," Bri muttered.
"Yeah I know, now why are you idjits here other than to introduce me to your new friend?" Bobby questioned.
"We were hoping you would have a case for us," Sam admitted.
"Yeah I got one, here, Draptil, Oklahoma, some guy named Xavier died of old age but the thing is, he's twenty five," Bobby suggested.
"Sounds witchy, I'll sit this one out," Bri grumbled.
"Aw, c'mon Bri, it's a hunt," Dean whined.
"Eh, let her stay, I could use some help," Bobby suggested.
"Alright, Bri, stay safe, don't do anything stupid," Dean ordered.
"You're the stupid one!" Bri countered as Dean and Sam left the house.
"So kid, how good are you at research?"
Bri sat on the couch with an old tome written by a so called 'apocalypse expert'. She flipped through pages on building the perfect bunker, duck and cover drills, preserving food, and Soviet Russia.
"Bobby, this is all about the Cold War, I don't think it's gonna help with the biblical apocalypse. I'm better off watching Ghostbusters so I can imprison Zuul and kill the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man when that issue happens," Bri said as she closed the book and picked up a scroll written in latin.
"Put that one somewhere else, if it ain't useful, keep it out of the way," Bobby ordered. Bri took the book over to the shelves and placed it on a stack of other wartime books. While there, she saw a book with the latin words "Nullam aciem per sánguinem" written in silver calligraphy on the black leather.
"Bobby, what does this mean?" Bri asked.
"Well, what's it say?" Bobby countered without looking up.
"Nullam aciem per sánguinem," Bri pronounced perfectly.
"Magic through bloodlines, it's not useful, I've never seen a case of it, you can have it if ya want it," Bobby replied.
"Thanks Bobby," Bri smiled. She went back to her scroll with the english translation with a notebook and began to copy down what she needed.
That night, Bri settled down in a guest bedroom after a pot of Bobby's famous-in-the-hunter-world chili, armed with a flashlight and her new book. She ran her fingers over the silver lettering taking in the way it glinted in the flashlight's beam. She opened the cover slightly and heard the yellowed pages crinkle. The musty smell reached her nostrils and she smiled happily.
"Best smell in the whole damn world," Bri muttered. She leafed through the pages until she found the first page of information. The text was faded but still legible.
'Ever since the dawn of man, magic has fascinated humankind. Some have achieved the power through deals with demons or through sapping power off of demons. Though, a select few, those who rode into battle with the angels, were blessed with magic. Some of their ancestors have inherited that power, though it manifests differently in every person.
The power often fails to manifest until puberty and at that time, it grows slowly. Many people do not notice a change for the first six to eight months. Around that time, subtle signs begin showing. At this point, the person should not expierence any trauma, as that could cause their powers to become unstable and dangerous. The person's magic should be fully developed by their eighteenth birthday.
Magic differs by the individual person. Some have elemental magic while others can be mistaken for spiritualists or healers. The form of magic is decided during the critical time in the development of their magic. If tragedy happens, their magic could be destructive while if they remain emotionally stable, the magic will often be unnoticable and they can blend in relatively easily.'
At this point, Brianna fell asleep, flashlight still on and book draped across her chest. Her breathing evened out and she fell into a light sleep. Fortunately for her visitor, it was just deep enough that he didn't wake her when he flew into her room. Shaking his wings out, he placed two fingers on her forehead and delved into her mind. He reached where her conscious mind was and forced the nightmares out and brought her old dreams in. Parties on the weekend with friends, regular hunting trips with her father, working in her mother's spiritualism shop. Simple memories that brought her great joy. The man smiled and observed as a little seven year old Bri helped her mother to make a healing salve for a sick pet.
When Bri awoke that morning, she inhaled the smell of cinnamon. The spicy scent pulled her out of bed. Pajamas were exchanged for jeans and a sweatshirt as Bri prepped for the day. Brown hair was swept up in a ponytail as Bri raced down the steps to the kitchen. Bobby had made oatmeal and there was a bowl waiting for Bri. But there was no Bobby.
"Bobby?" Bri called, "Bobby you there?" She walked to the bowl. Underneath was a note written on a piece of scrap paper. Bri yanked it out.
'Gone hunting, be back soon,' Bobby's messy handwriting scrawled. Bri pulled her phone out and dialed Sam's number. After three rings, he picked up.
"Hey Sam, is Bobby with you?" Bri asked.
"Uh yeah, you're not here too?" Sam responded.
"No! He left while I was asleep!" Bri complained as she popped the cool oatmeal in the microwave to heat it up.
"Well, he says to keep researching and no parties, so, have fun," Sam suggested as he hung up.
"Sam! Sam! Dammit Sam!" Bri called hopelessly.
After eating her breakfast and cleaning her dishes, Bri entered the library to find Cas awkwardly standing there.
"Oh, hey Cas, how long have you been standing there?" Bri asked
"I am unsure of the exact time. But it was dark when I first appeared," Cas announced.
"You could have woken me!" Bri exclaimed as she pulled out a few books to look through.
"I was under the impression that humans did not like being awoken," Cas stated.
"Normally we don't, but if you were here before dawn, I would have gotten at least five hours which I can work with!" Bri replied.
"I will keep that in mind next time," Cas answered.
"Willing to help me with some research, it'll go faster than if there is just one of us," Bri suggested as she sat down at a table with her stack of books.
"I suppose I could help," Cas commented as he grabbed a book off Brianna's pile.
Sam called Bri to check up later that day and told Bri that this case might take a while so she should get comfortable. She called for pizza and after eating half, she offered some to Cas before putting it in the fridge. Cas sat down on the couch and Bri walked through the living room to get to her bedroom.
"You want the TV on or something?" Bri asked.
"I will just continue to research, get some rest Brianna," Castiel advised.
"Night Cas," Bri smiled as she ran up the stairs.
The next day, nothing changed. She ate, she and Cas researched, she ate the pizza from the night before cold. The third day, Bobby, Sam and Dean returned late to find that Bri had introduced Cas to Cake Boss.
"Really Bri, reality TV?" Dean asked.
"What?! It's funny! Plus have you seen what he can do with cake?" Brianna defended.
"Cas you're letting her make you watch this?" Dean asked Cas.
"Leave her alone Dean, you forget she's a teenager," Sam piped up.
"So, did you two find anything interesting?" Bobby asked.
"I did, turns out, if Lucifer is gonna get Sam, Sam's gonna need to be completely wasted on demon blood," Bri announced riffling through her notes.
"So if we keep Sam off demon blood, we're all good?" Dean guessed.
"That's what I read," Bri responded.
"Cas, did you find anything?" Bobby asked.
"If you are referring to my father, I have not. But, not all four horsemen are being used right now, one has not risen, though no doubt Lucifer will bring him up soon," Cas proclaimed.
"Well which one?" Bobby asked.
"I am unsure, it cannot be War, but I cannot place which one it is," Cas replied.
"Well great, try and find out would ya?" Dean asked. Cas nodded and flew off, the wind blowing Bri's hair into her face.
"Well, we need to get going, got a lead on a trickster," Sam voiced.
"A trickster or Rocky Horror Picture Show trickster?" Bobby asked.
"Mr. Groundhog's Day himself," Dean hissed.
"You don't even remember that," Sam countered.
"He made you watch me die one hundred and two times!" Dean argued.
"What happened?" Bri asked.
"The trickster decided to trap us in a time loop and kill Dean every time," Sam explained flinching slightly at the memory.
They bade Bobby farewell after Bri had packed up and left Bobby with a copy of her notes. The Impala purred softly as it bounced down the pothole ridden road.
"Few more questions," Dean announced, "Draw an anti-possession symbol." Sam passed back a napkin and a pen.
"A what?"
"No, there's no way you don't have one," Dean responded.
"One what?" Dean yanked the car around.
Bobby was investigating the book Bri had left open when he heard a car pull into the salvage yard.
"Bobby!" Dean's voice shouted, "We need another anti-possession amulet!" Bobby sighed and banged his notebook against his forehead.
A/N: Crap! So sorry for not updating, I'm getting ready for school and it's kinda, um well, "THIS IS MADNESS!" (Free internet cookies if you finish the quote in the comments ;)) Anyhow, I am trying to shoot for once a month updates if I can but don't sic hellhounds on me if I don't. (They can't get in my room anyway so HA!) Almost done with season 9. Anyone else see the title of 10.1? I know how season 9 ends(thanks for nothing internet) so I almost punched my computer screen in anger. PM me if you wanna rant about 10.1 "Black" with me.