Chapter VII
It was about 10 more minuets before I walked out of my bedroom, dressed in a pair of dark blue hip huggers, a black tank top and bare feet. I had pulled my hair up into a messy bun. I headed straight for the kitchen, walking past Sam and Dean without glancing at them.
"What do you guys want to eat?" I ask, leaning into the fridge. Cold air was good. Cold air should have helped me forget about the way it felt to have Sam there beside me. To feel his hands. Damn, not helping.
"Surprise us," came Sam's voice. It sounded like he had not even looked up from the book he was reading. Not entirely surprising for Sam.
"Okay." I grabbed the things I would need. Eggs, cheese, ham, and spices, I put the frying pan on the stove and turned the coils on. I set about making breakfast enough for all of us, which took the last half of the 18 large eggs. I whipped together a cheesy, hammy, scrambled eggs. I divided it up, making sure to give Sam and Dean bigger portions. I set the bowls down on the table.
"What do you want to drink?" I asked.
"Milk," Both of them replied, still not looking up from their tasks. I pour three large glasses of milk and set them down on the table.
"Breakfast is ready boys." I said. It seemed that Dean and Sam had gotten so lost in their tasks they had forgotten to smell to food. It was quite a sight to see them look at me and then take a whiff of the air. In a flash they were sitting down.
"Oh, I could get use to this!" Dean said, taking a bite of the eggs. I just smiled. Dean began to shovel his food into his mouth. I stifled a laugh.
"My mother was a professional chef." I grimaced slightly at the memory of her. Luckily neither of them noticed. "She took pride in teaching me the finer parts of the life." They ate like they had not had home cooked food in a long time. After breakfast, I rinsed the dishes and placed them in the dishwasher. Sam and Dean had returned to their research.
"So," I said, putting my hands in my pockets, feeling childish. "What do we have?"
"Well, so far we have a whole new level of frustration." Sam motioned for me to sit down on the couch. I sat on the arm instead.
"Do you ever just sit?" Dean asked from the computer. I shook my head as if he was actually looking at me.
"I perch." I said. "Easier to get up fast if a situation calls for it." Sam eyed me. I was never big on sitting; I perched more often than not. I had found out the hard way a few times that sitting down and relaxing every so slightly could get a hunter killed. Perching was much better for launching a counter attack. Sam considered me, maybe trying to read my thoughts, for a moment before continuing.
"But we did find this." He showed me the text.
"Omni Demon?" I read the title. Sam nodded.
"An Omni Demon can be anything it wants to be." I snorted, the smart-ass side of my brain bringing up the Army commercials 'Be All You Can Be'.
"They are rare and very powerful. Omni is short of omnimalevolent." I raised an eyebrow. "The ultimate evil." Sam continued.
"Even worse is that they can become Deities." Dean said from the computer. Fuck. My brain thought to itself. I knew what the could mean and that was a place I was not willing to go. Killing Deities was messy business and there were serious consequences due to the serious Magicks it takes to bring down a Deity.
"Any thing on how to kill an Omni Demon?" I asked. Dean just grunted and shook his head. That was not good.
"What is this?" I pointed to the funny looking sword that was drawn on the same pages as the information. Sam shrugged.
"I am not sure." Sam said, leaning closer to the picture.
"It is called an Omni Weapon. It says that it can only be summoned by the pure of heart." I sighed. That was always the story. Pure of Heart.
See Pure of Heart is a tricky thing. In reality, it is pure intentions that will summon something that calls for the Pure of Heart. I could summon the sword but I was far from the Bible definition of Pure of Heart. I hope I don't have to explain that.
I got lost in my thoughts of how I was not the Bible definition of Pure of Heart and a smirk crossed my face. I became aware of the fact that Sam was watching me far to closely. I turned to him and our eyes locked.
"I think I found something!" Dean exclaimed. I let out a small squeak of shock and jumped off my perch. Dean turned to me with a flicker of something in his eyes.
"You're a witch right?" I nodded, suddenly very uncomfortable. I didn't like where this was going.
"Here." He wrote down the spell and handed it to me. It read;
I am light,
I am one too strong too fight,
Return to dark, where shadows dwell,
End this evil swell.
"Evil swell?" I raised an eyebrow. My kingdom for a rhyme. My smart-ass brain remarked.
"Here is the summoning spell." Sam wrote down the summoning spell and handed it to me. I looked doubtful at both of them and then at the two separate pieces of paper. I put the papers down and backed away. Dean and Sam both stood up and took one step to me. I put my hands up.
"I know what needs to be done, but I have not cast since before Jacob and my parents were killed." Sam moved faster than I had expected. His hands engulfed one of mine. I fought back the urge to cry out.
"Why?" he asked. I knew where he was going with this. He wanted to know why is I have all this power and don't use it. I removed my hand from his and turned my back to them. I could feel the tears and I didn't show weakness, ever.
"Because it scares me." So much for not showing weakness. "I lost it when Jacob and my parents were killed. I used my magick for destruction." I shivered as the memories passed over me like ghosts.
"When your father saved me, I swore I would not use again. I have been careful not to open that possibility up." I explained looking down at my hands. I could see the blood that was on them, human and demon alike. During that period I could not see the difference, evil was evil to me. The only problem was, humans could change, if giving the opportunity. I had taken human lives without thinking twice. I jumped as two large hands clasped down on my shoulders. I let me hands fall to my sides.
"We are here," Sam said. "I will be your anchor." I felt myself flush, thankfully they could not see it. I knew what he meant but my gutter mind took it very different. I took a deep breath. I felt Sam put his hands on my shoulders again. I could feel Dean moving up close to Sam. I heard the safety being turned off on a gun. Dean. Always the cautious one. But it was smart none the less.
"Natum Ad A Necral
Dona In Tan La Noc"
I said it three times, my word echoing through the room and into the Void. There was a sudden flash of light and a sword fell through the ceiling, landing in the floor next to me. Sam and Dean looked at each other and then at me, I had read the spell once and memorized it. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I was still sane, that was a start.
"Now what?" Sam asked.
"Now we wait." I said, not wanting to touch the sword. I moved over to the bookshelves and grabbed a Special Crimes Unit book. I grabbed a bottle of water and settled down on the couch to relieve my mind of the daunting task. Dean eyed the sword, wanting to touch it.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Dean." Dean looked over at me, my back was facing him. He pouted.
"Don't make faces. We don't know what that sword is capable of. And I am sure you want to tempt it, but I would not recommend taunting Fate." I said. Dean shock his head, thinking about what I had said. Sam moved to the other side of the couch, sitting down opposite of me. He settled in with on of the many Demonology books I had in my vast collection.
"How can you two just sit there?" Dean asked, he was getting antsy.
"Go to the garage, Dean. I made half of it a work out room. Go have fun." I said, without even turning around. Dean was silent but he was interested. He walked out to the garage and I could feel his excitement. He was like a giddy little boy in a toy store. It was amusing. A smile spread across my lips as I read the words of the book.
Even before she opened her eyes, Riley Crane was aware of two things. Her pounding head, and the smell of blood. Neither was all that unusual. Instinct and training made her lie perfectly still, eyes closed, until she was reasonably sure she was fully awake. I felt Sam's eyes looking over my form and it was very distracting. She was on her stomach and probably on a bed, she thought. Possibly her own bed. On top of the covers, or at least not covered up. Alone. Sam was staring harder now. I sighed.
"You won't be able to read my mind by just looking at me, Sam." He jumped at the sound of my voice. He flushed slightly, embarrassed by his actions or maybe just that he had been caught.
"How do you do it?" He asked, again, I knew what he had meant but my gutter brain took it to an entirely different place. Again.
"I have been psychic my whole life, Sam. I have never known what it was like to be normal." I said, not looking up from my book. Truth was I was just staring at the giant 1 with a spider web back round.
"I don't understand how it works. I just know it does." Sam shifted, making the leather groan.
"Can you teach me?" He asked. I took a deep breath and closed the book. I had not even gotten past the first page, so there really was no need for a bookmark. I looked up at his pleading eyes. I felt my heart pull toward him.
My mother had always told me that everyone, everywhere had the potential to be a powerful psychic. Being psychic came just as naturally as walking if one took the time and just learned. She also said that when one was ready to learn, they would find a teacher, and when the teacher was ready to teach, the student would ask to be taught. I knew now what she meant. Damn riddles.
"This will not be easy, Sam." I said. I locked gazes with him and felt a different kind of pull. A magickal on level. It was a gaze all right, but I had developed the talent of stopping a gaze before it happened. But I still got a brief glance.
"I can tell that you already have the gift of precognition. But it is unreliable. You have to be patient and willing to work hard. Teaching these techniques is not easy either. It is a process that we both have to work through. Your gifts will present themselves when you are ready to handle them, whether you believe it or not. Your mind knows what you can and can not handle." I began. I put the book down on the coffee table. I shifted so that I was sitting on leg folded over the top of the other, back straight.
"First, you have to begin by grounding yourself, do you remember how to do that?" I asked, Sam nodded.
"The directions may sound simple, but they are far more difficult to fulfil." Sam nodded.
"Take a deep breath. In… and out…" I closed my eyes, feeling the calm take over.
"Clear you mind of all thoughts, your mind must be empty in order for this to work. Now this might feel a little uncomfortable." I opened my eyes and found Sam sitting there, eyes closed. I moved toward him, so that I was kneeling directly in front of him. I placed my hands on either side of his head and closed my eyes again.
I found myself in a large hall filled with doors.
"Sam?" I called out, he was suddenly at my side. He looked around confused. I smiled.
"This is a journey for you. I am simply your guide." He nodded and took my hand. I looked down in a slight state of shock. I looked up at Sam and his focus was straight forward. I swallowed thickly and looked forward.
"Now you have to find a door." He looked at me. I smiled.
"This hall way is your minds way of showing itself to you, allowing you to see your potential. Each door represents something that you can already do or are capable of doing. It can be something as simple as walking or something as complex as doing calculus in your head. Some of the doors are open, those represent the things you can already do. And some are closed, representing the things you have to potential of doing." Sam nodded and slowly moved forward. He stopped to look into one of the open doors and saw himself talking.
"Keep in mind that we are in a venerable state, Sam. We can't stay here for long." I said. He nodded and moved on. I stole quick glances into the open doors, I am a curious person by nature. One of the doors was him and Jessica making love. I quickly averted my eyes to Sam who had stopped at one of the closed doors. He tried the handle and it was locked.
"Oh, yes. The locked doors are something your unconscious believes is dangerous to you." I paused. I was not sure if Sam had taken Psychology courses. Seeing that he was still staring at the locked door I went on.
"Our unconscious mind acts as a filter. If it believes that we are not ready, it will "lock" the doors." Sam seemed to be having a hard time will all of this.
"Sam?" he looked at me. "If you want to stop, just tell me and I can pull both of us out. I understand that this is a lot process." Sam just nodded and I watched as the hall and doors melted away.
I opened my eyes slowly, allowing them time to adjust to the light. I looked at Sam, who was opening his eyes too. He looked so sad, so lost. It hurt my heart to see him like that. I ran a hand through his hair. He looked down at his own hands, which had come to rest on my knees.
"Sam?" I asked him, sitting back on my legs. "What is it you are trying so hard to find?" I asked. He shook his head and moved to get up. I grabbed his hand.
"Look, I trust you. But in order for this to work, I need you to trust me too." I said. He thought for a moment about sitting down and talking with me but his thought was interrupted by Dean walking down the stairs. He had wrapped his lower half in a towel, thankfully.
"You two okay?" Dean asked, Sam just cocked his head to the side. "I came in about half an hour ago after working out for a few hours and the two of you were frozen. I could not wake either one of you up." Dean said. Crap I had forgotten about that part. Time moves differently while inside someone's mind. I cursed myself. I am sure we scared Dean pretty bad.
"We're fine." I said, looking at the digital clock above the fireplace. 1648, sunset should be starting about now. Wow, time went fast. I got up off the couch and let Sam's hand slide out of mine. I walked back to my room.
"You two should get ready. The hunt starts at dusk." I glanced over my shoulder before heading to my room. I closed my bedroom door behind me and just leaned against it. I could hear their hushed voices. Thank you hypersensitive hearing.
"Dude, what is going on?" Dean asked.
"Nothing," Sam answered. There was a silence.
"Don't lie to me, man. I see the way you look at her." Dean said.
"It's nothing." Sam insisted. There was another silence.
"Yeah, whatever." That was that, the typical Winchester conversation. Most communication was done with body language or glaring. I listened for a little while longer before heading in to my closet to get my hunting gear.
