Chapter 9

"Get your things and get out of this establishment!" screeched Ava Brown like a banshee. "Ive a good mind to call the cops, that was assault missy!"
Abbie felt the anger beginning to build to a pressure point that was gonna explode. The pain in her fingertips was becoming excrutiating.
"No! We wont leave! I did not throw anything at you, my brothers can attest to that!"
"Well what do you call that little example? I call that assault, thats what!"
Sam tried to intervene. "Lets all just try to calm down here shall we?"
"Sams right, come on now" said Dean, taking hold of Abbies arm. In doing so, Abbie furiously tried to tear her arm free of Deans grasp. The clock on the wall suddenly shot off, and went flying like a frisbee and just skimmed Avas head.
Stunned silence. "GET OUT!" Ava shouted.
Sam could have sworn he actually saw a bright white light explode from Abbies fingertips as the clock did its thing. He cant have though surely? He made a note to himself to mention it to Dean when everyone had calmed down.
After paying for damages, and quickly shoving all their gear together, the Winchesters left Ava Brown and her shithole motel behind.

There was 5 minutes of silence in the car as they drove around looking for a diner and another motel. Dean broke that silence.
"So Im thinking someone needs anger management or something!"
"Bite me" replied Abbie
"Hey, im being serious Sis. Things get smashed around like that every place we go just cos some old biddy pisses you off, eventually someone will call the cops in"
"You were really angry Abbie" Sam said.
"I couldnt help it! She was being unreasonable and a total bitch! and I didnt throw anything" she said in a small voice.
A short pause.

"Well I think judging by the fact you couldnt reach the clock from where you were standing kinda proves that" Dean said.
"Poltergeist?" Abbie asked with the hint of hope in her voice.
"I dont think so Sis" said Sam. "As the clock came off the wall, I swear I saw a bright white light from your fingertips"
"No way" from Abbie and Dean.
"Im telling you!" said Sam
"Trick of the light or something" Dean said.
"It wasnt I swear"
Abbie thought of the pain... "Well, just before both things smashed... I kinda felt a pins and needles type feeling in my fingers, then the angrier I got, it started hurting..."
"Really?" said Sam
"Yeah" Abbie looked like a frightened child sat in the back of the Impala, and Sam wanted to comfort her. Dean kept quiet and kept on driving.

"And its never happened before has it?" asked Sam.
"Never! I know im a bad tempered cow sometimes, but nothing like this" she felt tears threatening, real ones this time. Sam reached his hand out to her and gave hers a squeeze.
"Hey Sis, dont cry, were here now. Nothing will ever happen to you as long as Dean and I are around. Family right?"
Abbie sniffed and wiped her tears with her free hand.
"Thanks Sam"
Dean looked in the mirror and caught Abbies eye, winked kindly at her.

They found a diner and had their usual pancakes and coffee. Abbie was using the ladies room.
Dean and Sam had been mulling things over whilst she was gone. "This is some weird shit Sammy"
"Yeah, I know. I definately saw the light spark from her though I swear"
"Who did dhe say brought her up after her Mom?"
"Grandma. Id love to speak with her. I mean Abbie lost her Mom early, so she cant know anything at all about her really."
"Mmmm. I mean people can move things with their minds cant they? Telekenisis? And look at that freaky spoon bending guy"

Whilst tidying herself up, Abbie decided she wanted to find out more about what was going on with her. The only person that might know was Grandma, even though they werent close anymore.
When Abbie was a little girl, she distinctly remembered 2 old, large books in the attic. Really thick and dusty. Whilst up there together clearing the place out, little Abbie came across them and showed Grandma.
"What are these Grandma?" she recalled.
Grandma snatched them off her... "Oh nothing much sweety, just old rubbish. Gran will throw them out"
One word smacked Abbie in the middle of her memory bank. A word written in the fanciest of styles on each thick book...

Grimoires