As soon as they rolled up to the Beauchamp property, Dean whistled, green eyes raking in every detail. The white house had a black shingled roof, the porch wrapping around in the front. Aside from a nice landing, there was a comfy swing hanging solely by the front door. He shook his head- this was absolutely insane.
"Is everyone in this town loaded or is it just you?" Dean asked as they got out of the cr. The gravel crunched under his boots as they ambled up the driveway, and he noticed a dining area outside, a wooden picnic table with matching chairs, all nicely cushioned with a red seat. Wend shrugged.
"Nah- you should have seen that bitch Penelope's house," she said quickly, "it was glorious-"
"I take it you don't like her very much," Bobby crossed his arms. The wood creaked under their combined weight, Wendy rummaging through her purse for her house key. Birds trilled in some nearby trees.
"Well, it isn't exactly nice to poison your daughter-in-law's mother then resurrect her sister whom her aunt accidentally killed in the 1900's, now is it?" Wendy said with boredom, "Oh- here we go!" She lifted up a small house key, the metal catching the lights, "and we're in!" She shoved it in the key hole on the door, a click as she twisted it and swung the door open. The brothers exchanged glances- it was obvious that this was not exactly the most friendly neighborhood. A cld draft blew in when Dean slammed the door shut, following Wendy down a long narrow hall.
"Wendy?" called a woman's voice, "is that you?"
"Yes it is!" Wendy called back, beckoning the hunters to follow, "and I bought friends!" The three men followed her into a large living room, a fireplace on the far wall with a mint green couch sitting in front of it. The walls were a mix of white and forest green, with pictures hanging in intricately made frames on every wall.
"Aunt Wendy, hey!" Freya waltzed into the room, and Dean found himself staring at her once more. She had changed since her shift at the bar, now wearing a pair of black skinny jeans with gold flats, a white lace top hanging off her shoulder, revealing deliciously tan skin and the straps to what Dean figured was a black lace bra. Wendy wrapped her arms around Freya, and Dean noticed her nails were pointed, like a cat's claws.
"Is Killian still alive?" Wendy joked, poking Freya's shoulder, "I mean, you said Ingrid was literally boring him to death, so…" Freya grinned, letting out a aft laugh.
"No, no, Killian is fine, Wendy," she confirmed, finally noticing the hunters awkwardly standing there. What made it funny though was the fact that Sam towered over all of them, and Wendy was wearing four inch heels. She jutted her chin at them, "why are they here?"
Nodding, Wendy clapped her hands, spinning her rings on her fingers nervously, "They are here to help with the vision I told you about earlier…." Freya gaped, looking from her aunt to the men, then back to the men. They looked like models! Well, Freya thought as she then scrunched her nose, except the old one. Heels clicked on the polished wood floor and soon there was a third woman, with the same wavy black hair as Freya and Wendy. Sam gulped- Jessica had black hair, he thought, feeling sadness begin to wash over him. The woman had on a stained art smock, red splotches all over the front, protecting a silk purple shirt and black pants. She pointed a wet brush at them, red dotting the floor.
"Who is this?" she asked, her tone accusatory and cold. Sighing, Wendy crossed her arms, tapping her foot.
"Please don't get mad!" she squealed suddenly, tensing her shoulders and the woman immediately groaned, scolding her, "Wendy, you did this with Victor and then with Leo-"
"Actually I had nothing to do with Leo showing up here!"
"-and with these men too? I mean, what else are you gong to do, open a boutique in my living room?!" Wendy grinned, raising a finger.
"Did that in New Orleans, remember?" she hinted, adding, "okay, they're here to help-"
"Help with what?" the woman froze, eyeing them suspicious, her eyes boring into them, digging to get under their skin. Dean tugged at the collar of his shirt- this was definitely an awkward visit (not one of the most awkward, but definitely on the list.)
"Uh, Mom?" Freya piped up, Wendy sighing as she turned on her daughter.
"Yes dear?"
"Where's Killian?" Freya asked innocently, "I mean…" She pointed to the kitchen, swirling a finger as if mixing a drink.
"He's with Ingrid in the backyard, dear," she said. Smiling, Freya gave Wendy and the woman a quick hug, shoes taping the floor as she stalked out. Dean jumped as there was a slam, followed by an awkward silence, staring at the two witches and his brother.
"So…." Sam finally said, trailing off as he plucked at a stray fabric on his plaid shirt, "you have a lovely home, Mrs…."
"Beauchamp," she finished for him, extending a hand. Sam couldn't help but notice her cringe slightly as he took her hand and shook it. Nodding, she added, "But you can call me Joanna." Sam grinned politely, gesturing to Bobby.
"This is Bobby Singer, my brother Dean," he introduced, "and I'm Sam. Thank you for having u- OW!" He nearly screeched as Dean jabbed him in the ribs with his elbow- hard. Glaring, Sam gritted his teeth at his brother, who chuckled like a dork.
"You make it to easy, Sammy," Dean grinned, then towards Wendy, "so now what?"
"What do you mean, 'now what'?" Joanna asked, eyeing Wendy with scrutiny. The witch turned red- she didn't want to tell her sister because go this reaction exactly. Joanna was always overbearing- not that it wasn't nice, but it could sometimes be a bit much in her opinion.
"Well, I kinda sorta had a vision…." Wendy mumbled. Joanna widened her eyes, hand planted on her hip.
"Wendy why didn't you tell me!?" she squawked, "now I don't feel guilty about giving you cat food for breakfast!" She was about to barge through to the kitchen, then turned to the three men, "You boys go wait in the yard, make yourself at home, alright?" Uncomfortably, the three men made their way through the kitchen and out the back door, closing he door quietly behind them.
The yard itself was pretty large, with green grass that was neatly trimmed, the same outdoor dining set Dean saw earlier sitting a little off to the side, a few feet from the back door. The sun beat down on them as they approached the table where three people sat- Sam rolled his eyes as Dean instantly recognized the back of Freya's head a white lily poking out from her black tresses and behind her ear.
"Dean, wait-" Sam tried, only to end up helping Bobby follow, his face turning red as one of the people- a young woman with strawberry blond curls- pointed them out as they walked up to them.
"Hi, can we help you?" she said, the three men making a stop at the table. Sam licked his lips, shooting a glance at Dean. He was already trying his best not to make goo-goo eyes at Freya, although it was obvious that it wasn't working. A man was sitting next to her, with shaggy brown hair that barely reached past his neck, dark eyes questioning Dean as he stood there.
"I apologize, for my brother," Sam said, nodding politely, "this is Bobby Singer, I'm Sam Winchester." Ingrid shook his hand as he gulped, stealing a quick look at Dean, "and that's my brother, Dean." Nodding, Ingrid looked between the brothers.
"Well, you seem like nice people, but why are you in my backyard?" she inquired, clasping her hands behind her back. Sam opened his mouth to explain, instead Bobby's annoyed scowl coming out.
"Your aunt invited us over," he explained, "said she had a vision." At his statement the women let shock creep into her hazel eyes, although they looked to be almost gray or green. The woman bit her lip, saying, "Well, if you know Aunt Wendy-"
"You guys know Wendy?" Freya scoffed, leaning into the man's shoulder.
"We've been calling each other on and off," Bobby explained, "we finally met in person today." Freya pursed her lips.
"What do you think, Ingrid?" she laughed to the woman, "is she gonna give Leo the boot?" the woman- Ingrid- shook her head as she sat back down, fixing the skirt of a white dress with little black birds printed on it.
"Nah, they love each other too much," she denied, then gesturing to the hunters, "please, sit down- I'm sure you have a lot to explain, right?" Nodding, Sam went to sit, when Bobby dug his fingers into Sam's shoulder, the fabric bunching between his knuckles.
"You idjit," he said, much to the surprise of Ingrid, although she could tell it was in more of an endearing way than nasty, "did you really forget?" The brothers exchanged glances until it hit them.
"Right, right," Dean sighed heavily, "am I gonna have to go back to the bunker to get it?" Now it was the sisters turn to share a look of confusion, the man simply shrugging as he wrapped an arm around Freya's shoulder. The old man shook his head, licking his lips- it was utter than he expected.
"Nah- Garth probably snuck it into the trunk of the Impala," Bobby said, then to Ingrid, "Miss Beauchamp-"
"Mr. Singer, are you alright?" she asked, Sam nearly dragging him as he lifted a hand, pointing to a chair- and empty one was siting besides Ingrid, the man being on the left of it himself. Dean took one last look at the trio, lingering momentarily on Freya before stalking back through the door and inside the house.
"Well, I can't walk, but other than that I'm just dandy," he said sarcastically, cracking a smile at their faces as they laughed, "but do you mind if I sit down?" Shaking her head, she slung his other arm over her shoulder, helping Sam get him into a chair.
"Sorry, I didn't realize," she apologized. Bobby shook his head.
"Wait, then how did you get to the bar?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow at him.
"Had Garth carry me in with some of his werewolf buddies-"
"Did I just hear him correctly?" the man said, twisting a finger in his ear, making Freya laugh, "or am I going insane?" Freya shook her head, ruffling his hair.
"He said werewolf alright, Killian," she answered. Killian nodded at Bobby in greeting, the old man returning the favor. He was already liking this kid, keeping shut when he was supposed to. The door creaked open and everyone turned their attention to Joanna and Wendy as they strode outside, each carrying a tray of food and drinks. The glasses rattled as Wendy set her tray down shakily, handing out what looked like lemonade.
"So," Joanna wiped her hands free of condensation on her pants, "Sam, can I get you a chair?" Sam opened his mouth when Bobby answered him.
"He can have mine once his idjit brother gets my chair from the car," the man said, "so don't worry about it." As if on cue, Dean rejoined the group, carefully heaving a wheelchair in his arms. The hinges creaking, he set it down in the grass, helping Bobby ease into it. Sighing, he plopped himself down in the now empty seat, much to Sam's annoyance after being promised it.
"Sorry about that- the chair is just so damn heavy…" he rubbed the back of his neck, noticing Killian for the first time, "Dean Winchester. You?"
"Killian," he said, crossing his arms. Nodding, Dean eyed the way he let Freya lean into him, the big smile on her face when he pecked her on the cheek, tucking her hair behind her ear. He felt the heat rise to his cheeks- a factor of jealousy, he knew.
"Now that we have formalities out of the way," Ingrid coughed, "care to explain what's going on?" She razed an eyebrow at Wendy and the men.
"Well, I told Freya earlier, and your mom found out anyway," Wendy sighed reluctantly, gold bagels jangling on her thin wrist, "I had a vision, and I called Bobby because he said he'd be able to help-"
"A vision? Of what?"
It took a few minutes, but they were soon able to fill everyone in, explaining the whole process. It was a bit grueling for the brothers to have to remember everything- almost getting killed multiple times, actually dying then being bought back; it wasn't something anyone would want to remember.
"So you guys are hunters," Ingrid tried to make sense of their story, "and you guys hunt everything that goes bump in the night?" Sam nodded, Dean pursing his lips.
"That's one way to put it, although we probably strayed farther into the whole 'making deals' territory and stuff," Sam said, shoving his hands in his pockets. He was beginning to feel as sweaty as the condensation resting on the glasses of lemonade, it was getting hot. Everyone was sitting now except the taller hunter, handing out cookies and drinks as they listened to their story.
"What do you mean by that?" Freya asked, leaning forward with her elbows on the table.
"There have been a shit-ton of mishaps along the way," Bobby cut in ruffly, "I mean, among the werewolf hunting, vampire bites…." he began listing off things on his fingers, "then of course there was that one time Sammy over here sold his soul-"
"You can do that?!" Wendy guffawed, nearly dropping her glass as she gaped wide-eyed at him. Sam shrugged sheepishly.
"It was to bring my brother back to life, okay?" he admitted. Dean coughed, tugging at the collar of his shirt uncomfortably. Wend turned on him, asking, "You died?!"
"Both of us," he said, "more than once, actually."
"And I thought being cursed was bad," she muttered, taking a sip of lemonade. It was tart and burned against her tongue.
"So, you guys are witches too?" Joanna dared, cocking her head slightly, trying to make sense of what exactly they were telling her. Reflecting on her own life, it didn't sound crazy to her. Outlandish, but not certifiable.
"No," Dean coughed, sputtered lemonade everywhere, "not witches. Hunters. Demons, angels, crap like that." Wiping his mouth, he added quickly, "of course, the angel part is only when we really have to." Sam nodded in agreement.
"Yeah, that seems to be happening a lot lately," he said. There was an awkward silence amongst the group, a cold breeze billowing through the yard, picking up dead leaves, weaving throughout eh grass. It was Wendy who spoke first.
"So how many times have you guys died?" was her question, her hand flying to the green pendant around her neck. Bobby cracked his knuckles.
"I don't think-"
"Aw, come on- I told you guys Ingrid was ressurected once! How many times have you guys died?" There was a playfulness in her tone, her gray eyes sparkling with curiosity.
"Wendy please," Joanna reprimanded her.
"It's okay, really," Sam said, then to Wendy, "for me, it was three. Bought back the same amount." Nodding, Wendy jutted her chin at Dean, "How about him, huh?" Bobby saw the shock creep into Sam's eyes- it really was unbelievable, what could get to him, strike a nerve.
"Well?" Wendy prompted, "how many?"
"One hundred and three," he said softly, although not soft enough to be misheard, apparently. Now it was the witches turns to be shocked, Killian pulling Freya closer to his side. Wendy and Ingrid chuckled, Joanna shaking her head in disapproval at her sister- she was always so pushy, trying to weasel every little detail of someone's life out of them for her own amusement.
"Wow," she said, "that is a lot!"
"We came to help you!" Bobby suddenly snapped, "so if you want to sit here and gossip then I'll have them wheel me outta here and drive home!" Wendy raised her hands in defense, rolling her eyes at him.
"Alright, alright," she said, "who got your panties in a bunch, huh?"
"Wendy!" Joanna cried, "don't be rude!"
"It's fine, Miss Beauchamp," Sam said, although it was obvious he was extremely uncomfortable. The lemonade was turning warm the longer it sat out, the glasses slick with condensation. The ice in the pitcher had melted, making it worse. Killian was sitting there awkwardly, arm around Freya's shoulder as the guests bickered. Finally it was Bobby who broke it, clearing his throat with a raspy cough.
"Well, you want us to find this shifter or what?" he asked.
"Last time it was Penelope," Joanna filled him in, "but we killed her, so she's out of the equation." Nodding, Bobby crossed his arms. his eyes were shaded underneath his blue baseball cap, blocking the beau champs view of his face, save the rounded chin and scruffy beard/mustache combo he and going on.
"So you're saying this has happened before?" The women nodded, Joanna collecting the glasses, as they now were being completely ignored. Killian raised a hand, a sheepish grin on his face.
"Yeah, sorry about my mom," he apologized.
"So, got any idea where this shifter might be?"
"In my vision it was him," Wendy pointed to Dean, "the shifter looked exactly the same."
"It wouldn't be a first," Dean admitted, "but I guess it happens, oh well."
There was an awkward pause, glasses clinking as Joanna piled them on a tray, Wendy getting up to grab the pitcher and follow her int the house. The door slammed, leaving them with the other three witches in the yard. Dean pointed to Killian, "You got magic too?"
"Yup," he agreed, "indeed I do."
Dean's face paled. If he wanted to get Freya's attention, he was going to have to compete with this guy? He looked like fricking Flynn Rider, with the smolder turned on at all times. Dean shook his head.
He knew it wasn't worth it, but he may as well try.