Chapter 37
Sam walked out of the bathroom leaving his brother alone behind him.
He had spent the past 20 minutes telling his brother his life story, telling his brother who he was.
Like a child trying to hold back the tide with his bare hands, trying to save his sandcastle. He could feel his brother slipping away through his fingers and nothing he could do would hold him together.
He felt beyond helpless and useless.
The hardest thing he had ever had to do was walk away from Dean, to focus on trying fix this and do what needed to be done, instead of fruitlessly clinging to Dean and trying to hold what was left of him together with sheer force of will. Telling him over and over who he was and how much he MEANT to his little brother.
To risk what was left of his brother ... falling away into nothingness like sands through an hour glass. To bet those moments he had left with the most important person in his life against getting a book from a bunch of witches.
"How is he?" Rowena enquired, the picture of overflowing concern as he stepped through the bathroom door.
There was a gulf inside Sam that was incrementally filling with despair and anger.
"Like you care." Sam rounded on her, his anger finding a target in the witch, who had, in the past tried to kill them both.
"Oh." Rowena gasped, maybe a trifle theatrically. But still, maybe there was an echo of hurt in there as well, Sam didn't have the emotional reserves just then to discern.
Sam couldn't deny she was here, for whatever reason she was here, helping.
He ached to have Cas here, his Dad or Bobby back, to have someone he could truly trust, not a fickle witch.
Sam exhaled, sitting down on the bed and running a weary hand over his face.
Suddenly, he felt unbearably lonely in that moment. Needing to express the agony inside to someone, even if it was Rowena.
"You know, I've seen my brother die, but watching him become... not him..." Sam took a deep breath, in and out "This might actually be worse..."
From the bathroom, he faintly heard Deans voice "My name is Dean Winchester... Sam is my brother. Mary Winchester is my mother... Cast... Cas is my best friend."
God, he shouldn't let Rowena in like this, he couldn't trust her. Sam struggled to shore up his defences.
"We need to find that grimoire." Rowena said fiercely.
Sam looked up at Rowena winced and shook his head.
"Of course. Of course." He let out a huff of frustration, rubbing the back of his head "T-hat's your angle, isn't it?" He flared
"Oh."
"Oh, come on, Rowena. A powerful spell book shows up and all of a sudden, you're here to help? Altruism isn't exactly your style."
Rowena opened her mouth, shrugged and gave Sam a coy smile "True. Also, it never hurts to have a Winchester owe you one."
"Gideon Loughlin's address was in his accountant's file. If the book is there, I'll find it." Sam said grabbing his jacket, deciding on action.
"Of course, you'll need me there to help -"
"No, no, you're staying here with Dean."
"I most certainly am not."
"Well, he can't come with me, and I'm not leaving him alone. And I obviously don't trust you."
"Well, obviously..."
"The Black Grimoire's written in ancient Druid. How do you propose to find a proper spell without me there to -"
"Well, you said a few of the Loughlins survived, right? That was the rumour?"
"So', you expect one of them to - to what? Translate their ancient super-secret family spell book for you? You just killed their brother. They'd sooner use your skin as an outfit."
Sam pulled out his gun full of witch killing bullets with a grim smile and held it up.
"They can try." He said and walked out the door.
...
"Stop touching everything." Rowena snapped at Dean and slapped his hand, as he fiddled, yet again, with the spell components she had laid out.
"Sorry." He muttered as he turned away. Then, moments later as he turned back, again he reached out to touch, like Fergus had as a toddler
"Ugh. Here." She handed him a voodoo doll and some pins "Play with this, ... and I'll tell you a story.
"Oh good"
"Once," Rowena began in a Storytime for children voice "a beautiful witch was, again, run out of her homeland" Dean sat poking at the doll "by those pompous, self-righteous, murderous hooligans." Dean looked across at her.
"You know them as The British Men of Letters." She informed him, Dean gave her a small grin and a nod, to indicate he'd heard; then gave a little head shake showing no memory of the people in question.
"She sought refuge with a family of witches. All she wanted was a roof over her head and a safe place to hone her magic. Yet, they threw her out like... like common trash. Said she wasn't up to snuff."
Dean turned and looked at her "Oh, these witches sound like dicks." Rowena smiled "I think you got plenty of snuff."
Rowena laughed and looked down pleased, then blinked at Dean, suddenly remembering the curse and that his words meant less than nothing.
"You can really remember nothing, can you?" She said in a cynical tone, Deans mouth quirked in response.
"What a gift not to recall the things you've done." Rowena enthused.
"What have I done?" He asked with a slightly goofy smile.
"Oh, you're a killer, Dean Winchester." She informed him in a subtle purr.
Dean frowned and his face crumpled "Wait, I ... I kill people?"
"Scores." She informed him maliciously, he looked away like a hurt child.
A tiny piece of her rebelled at the cruelty.
"But...but... though you may be a stubborn pain in the arse with the manners of a Neanderthal and the dining habits of a toddler, everything you've done, you've done..." she let out a disgusted sigh "for the greater good."
"Oh, and that's supposed to make it okay?" Dean asked not mollified.
Rowena scoffed "I wouldn't know. You help those other than yourself. But me?" She walked around and sat next to him. "I've done horrible things, and I told myself it was fine. It was the price of power. And power's what matters, right?" "Then I met God and his sister. The two most powerful beings in the universe, wasting it on squabbling with each other. I thought, if - if they can't be happy, or at least satisfied, how can there be any hope for me?" Deans face filled with confusion, his eyes flicking back and forth trying to take in her words.
"Why are you telling me this?" He asked at last.
Rowena gave him a slightly malicious smile "Because, I know you won't remember." She informed him and tapped his nose.
The cell phone rang.
"You're in?" Queried Rowena
"S-hh. Yeah, I'm in." Sam's voice informed her.
"All right. As soon as I get the translation, you cast the spell."
…
"This gun is full of witch-killing bullets." Sam's voice announced. "So why don't you go to your grimoire and tell me how to break the memory spell?"
"I told him you'd come." A female voice responded, "Boyd wanted to go after you," she continued "but I said, "Why bother?" You're hunters. You'll hunt us down, right at our doorstep. Hot and... fresh like pizza."
"I'm not asking you again." Sam's voice was full of deadly threat
"Abi!"
There was a sound of an impact and things falling. Sam groaned.
"Age nunc intellectum. Age nunc intellectum atque voluntatem omnem meam."
Through the phone there was a high-pitched ringing sound and the woman laughed in evil amusement…. and then there was screaming.
"Sam?" Dean cried in horror as the phone cut out.
...
Less than a moment later Rowena was collecting her spell fixings, she looked across at Dean, already the memory of his brothers scream had been washed away. She could walk away and no one would even know. And yet...
From the table on the other side of the room there was a peal of sound from the laptop. Dean wandered towards it.
"Lady do you know anyone called Ro-wee-na, or Dean" Dean queried "the" Dean waved his hand "thing wants em."
Frowning, Rowena crossed the room and looked at the screen
"Rowena! Dean this is important, you need to show the lady with the red hair this, please! If you don't the Loughlins are going to kill you ALL. I can help, I know a way for all of you to live, you just have to do as I say."
"Who is this HobbitualPsychik?" Rowena asked looking at Dean, not really expecting a reply. Dean frowned, then a smile lit his face.
"She's our Mom." He informed her a touch questioningly.
"I can see the future" the screen proclaimed.
"Rowena all I'm asking you to do is write the following notes, put Dean and them in the impala and then do what you are going to do anyway. Try to help Sam and get that book. My way you get what you want. You all live. Please!"
For a moment, Rowena looked at the screen undecided, she had always known both Winchester boys had a certain level of untapped talent, she'd seen it in action often enough and almost smelt it on their skin when they were close.
They were legacy Men of Letters after all.
How else did they think they managed to do spell work?!
Not that the idiotic oh so moral Winchesters would ever use or harness their god given talents for more than hunting monsters and saving damsels in distress.
….A mother who had returned from the dead ... with the ability to see the future.
It made sense.
"What am I supposed to do?" Rowena replied picking up a pen.
...
Dean woke in the impala, in front of him was a note taped to the windscreen. Pulling it off he read the words written out load "Your brothers been kidnapped by a witch. I found your stupid car and left you here."
"Stupid?!" Dean queried looking around "okay..." Dean went to get out of the impala. Only to be confronted by a note on the side window "Stay." Dean looked over his shoulder and shifted uncomfortably, he needed to follow orders. His eyes were drawn to the house.
Again, he looked at the note on the side window, "Stay" this time he pulled it off, read it again with a grunt. Just about to crumple it up, he saw words on the back. "Go to the trunk and open it."
Dean exited the car and opened the trunk.
Another note greeted him "Open me."
Dean followed orders and opened the compartment. He was greeted with the mother lode of weapons "Whoa!" He breathed in happy amazement.
His green eyes lit on the grenade launcher hungrily, but there was a note that said "NO!"
Two other things had notes "WITCH KILLING BULLETS" on a box of ammo and "THIS GUN" on an ivory handled gun.
Dean pulled the gun and the ammo out of the trunk loading the gun purely by muscle memory. He read the note he still had in his hand. "Your brothers been kidnapped by a witch..."
...
Dean walked into the room, a red headed woman was pinned to the wall, her face bloody. A shard or mirror was imbedded in the wall by the frightened woman's face.
The other woman, a blonde, held another shard of broken mirror ready to throw it.
Dean cocked the gun and both women looked at him, the redhead with relief, the blonde with contempt.
"A gun?" She tutted "do you really think that's going to work on u..."
Dean held up the note "WITCH KILLING BULLETS" she gave him a half smile and turned back to throw the mirror shard at the redhead.
Dean pulled the trigger and the witch fell dead, the redhead slid to the floor.
A doorway at the top of the stairs flew open and a man pursued another man down the stairs.
Both men stopped at the sight of Dean at the foot with a gun pointed at them.
Deans gun wavered between the two men, then aimed at the larger of the two who had been doing the chasing.
The man with the floppy hair gave him an incredulous look and raised his hands.
"No, no, no. Brother" he pointed at himself. "Witch." He pointed at the man below him on the stairs.
Dean shot the witch through the heart.
The floppy haired man, his brother, took a few gasping breaths and slumped against the banister in relief.
Dean shot him a goofy smile and a thumbs-up.
...
Sam stood at the base of the stair, waiting and pacing.
There was an incantation and a red hued flash.
Rowena walked down the stairs, the grimoire cradled against her chest, followed by his brother
"Hey. Is that it? Is - is it done?" Sam asked nervously.
"Who's this hippie?" Dean asked, his face blank without recollection.
Sam's face crumpled, he raised his arms in a helplessness, wanting to cry, wanting to beg Rowena to somehow bring his brother back.
Then Dean gave a wheezing chuckle and he looked at Rowena, they both broke into smiles.
"Look at his face." Dean rumbled "Oh! Kind of like the time when I ate all your Halloween candy. You remember that? Classic."
Sam took a few huffing breaths "Not funny." He grated, a flinching smile of relief broke over his face.