They had sat in silence for nearly ten minutes, Sam and Dean loading salt rounds with passive aggressive efficiency, while CJ mumbled Latin under her breath over the openings of the now filled water guns. The caps of the guns were filled, on the inside, in hot glue, with a good piece of the rosary chain hanging down to be in the water.
Dean slowly stopped his packing, glancing from the kneeling, muttering girl, to Sam, who, infrequently now, lifted the slowly melting ice pack to his face. A quick glance at Bobby showed the hunter was no closer to the answer than ten minutes ago, and he was as restless as he could be. "You see, this is why I can't get behind God."
"What are you talking about?" Sam slowly set down his ice pack, looking over to his brother with a curious, almost wounded expression. Hadn't they been over this..?
"If he doesn't exist? Fine." Dean set the sHell he'd been working on down on the table, his jaw tensing as he sat back in his chair, "Bad crap happens to good people. No rhyme or reason; just random.. Horrible.. Evil.. I get that. Okay, I can roll with that, but if he is out there-?" He sat up again, this time more firmly, his hands making gestures as he enunciated his words, he really was getting stressed about this. "What's wrong with him..?"
CJ had a million and two things to say about that, but wisely kept her mouth shut as he worked through his frustration. He needed his minute to rant.
"Where the Hell is he while all these decent people are getting torn to shreds?"
Dean slapped his hand against the table lightly, drumming his fingers restlessly against the wood as his face contorted in both annoyance and lack of hope, "How does he live with himself..? You know, why doesn't he help?"
The boys looked directly at CJ then, staring in silence as she capped the last gun, her head perking up and her body giving a shudder as she turned her head to see three sets of eyes boring into the flannel against her back.
"What?"
They were silent, glancing between each other before looking back at her.
Her eyes shot open wide and she rapidly shook her head, muttering obscenities under her breath as she dropped the gun to the floor and shook her hands quickly in front of her chest, "Fuck no- Nuh-uh, I ain't touching that with a fifty foot stick. Hell no -!"
They were quiet for several counts, and then, Bobby shook his head, breaking back to the present.
"Found it," Bobby's voice cut into the silent, shared look the two brother's now held, and they both turned to look at him quickly as he held up the book, his thumb keeping the pages open to display the symbol Sam had drawn, with just a tad more detail. "I'd looked through it a bit earlier, when I'd had these books shoved at me-" he shot a look toward CJ, who was now innocently whistling as she toyed with the ends of her water gun, "-It's called the Mark of the Witness."
"Witness," Sam repeated, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he tried to mentally piece together the puzzle, "Witness to what?"
"To the unnatural," Bobby lifted an elbow over the back of his seat, getting comfortable as he got into his 'teaching' mode, "None of them died what you'd call 'ordinary' deaths. You see, these ghosts.. They were forced to rise. They woke up in agony. They're like rabid dogs- It ain't their fault." He paused, glancing between them all with a heavy expression, " Someone rose them. On purpose."
"Who?" Sam took a glance at the book, but the font was a bit too flowery for him to skim it for answers.
"Do I look like I know?" Bobby scoffed, shrugging a bit as he glanced over to CJ, who had moved to load the finished salt rounds into pocket sashes. "But whoever it was, used a spell so powerful, it left a mark, a brand , on their souls." He sat up a bit as he brought out his hands, trying to gesture exactly how serious and important the information really was. "Whoever did this had big plans; its called the Rising of the Witnesses.. It figures into an ancient prophecy."
"Wait-wait-hold up," Dean got up from the couch when Sam did, both moving to crowd over the desk to get a good look down at the worn tomb, "What book is that prophecy from?"
"Well," Bobby gave a shrug, his eyebrows furrowed thickly as he flexed his jaw, "The widely distributed version is just for tourists, you know, but.. Long story short.." he paused then, flicking his eyes toward CJ before settling them firmly on the boys, one last time, "Revelations."
It was silent, and the Winchesters watched him with faint confusion, slowly grappling onto anxiety as they took in Bobby's body language and tone. "This is a sign, boys.."
"A sign of what?" they asked in unison. CJ snorted loudly from behind them, earning several sharp looks, before the attention was returned to Bobby.
Leaning back in his seat, he let his shoulders hunch low, suddenly feeling the lack of sleep he had gotten the night before.
"...The Apocalypse."
"You tell 'em, Singer," the female voice called out, the woman having slammed her tools down onto the table and plopped her butt into the cushions with a grunt, "Confirm what I have been telling all three of you for a week, now."
"The Apocalypse," Dean repeated, swinging his eyes from bobby, to the girl, and back again sharply, trying to demand answers but not sure who to ask first, "As in; Apocalypse, Apocalypse? Four horsemen.. Pestilence.. Five dollars a gallon gas, Apocalypse-?"
"That's the one," Bobby nodded calmly. "The rise of the Witnesses is a.. A mile marker."
"Okay," Sam cut in quickly, his leg was shaking, and he looked just about as anxious as Dean did. "So, what do we do, now?"
"Roadtrip," Dean blew out a breath, huffing as he turned back to the couch and pushed aside CJ's propped up legs, ignoring her protest as he plopped down beside her, "Grand canyon? Star Trek experience?" He clapped his hands when Bobby and Sam only stared at him, but the smile on CJ's face was a lot more relaxed and warm. "Bunny ranch," he snapped his fingers, looking toward the two other men with sarcastic hope.
"I'm in. Sign me up. Bunny ranch, anyone?" CJ offered lightly, grinning when they all turned to look at her in equal states of shock, "Mardi Gras? Mini Golf? Believe it or not, I have never been to an aquarium.."
"You want to go to a bunnyranch?" Dean repeated quietly, looking at CJ with a slight tilt of his head, "You do know I'm not talking about the little fluffy, rodents, right?"
"Sexy, red haired women," CJ looked up at him with her eyebrows raised, "Why in the Hell wouldn't I go?"
The room took a collective moment to take in her comment, and Bobby rolled his eyes.
"First things first," Bobby pointed out calmly, "How about we survive our friends out there."
"Heads up," was the only warning the boys received before a shot rang out, and CJ casually lowered the gun back to her side, the black mist fading from the doorway where it had almost immediately appeared. "Keep talking."
"Any ideas aside from staying in this room until judgement day?" Dean asked after a moment, reaching up his hands to rub at his temples. Bobby tapped the book with his pen, shaking his head as he turned back to face the desk properly. "It's a spell. To send the Witnesses back to rest. It should work.."
"Should, heh," Sam gave out a quick, disbelieving laugh, "Great.. Any input, CJ ?"
"It's not a waste of time, if that's what you're asking, Lucky ."
"And if I've translated correctly," Bobby continued, ignoring both of the young adult's snarky, thinly veiled jabs, "I think we've got everything we need here at the house."
"Any chance you've got everything we need here in this room?" Dean asked, though his hope was clearly thin. "You think our luck was going to start now all of a sudden?" Bobby scoffed.
CJ grinned a little, humming a bright tune that immediately caught the men's ears when she hopped up from her seat and moved to get beside Bobby. She fell to her knees and dragged the heavy red hex box out from under it, placing it on the desk with a thunk. Opening a drawer with a practiced ease, then pulling out several other items and laying them out in turn. Finally pointing to the bowl on the end table, she flashed the silently staring men a smug, relaxed smile. "Apparently it has."
"Okay.." Dean murmured slowly, looking over the items on the table before giving her a slow, relaxed nod, and giving her a single, accusing point, "You.. You are really.. Something.."
"Thank me later," she shrugged, bending over to brace her hands on the edge of the desk and blowing a lock of brown bangs from her eyes, "Hemlock, opium, wormwood.."
She felt the flannel slip over her left shoulder, ignoring the way it fell down her arm as she lifted her hand to pat the top of the red box, "The red hex box from the linen closet upstairs.. It's a bit heavy. Everything should be in here.."
"Yeah.." Sam murmured under his breath, tearing his eyes away from the slouching teal fabric before locking them sternly on her face. She lifted her eyes up to him a moment later, and he was glad for his timing. "We really need to talk about this when this is over.."
"I'll say," Bobby scoffed, opening the box with a sharp shake of his head, "but it'll be after dinner and three beers.."
"Cowboy, wanna cover with me?" she asked quietly. He seemed to shock himself back into reality, swinging his eyes around a bit before finding her again with a hum. "We should have enough rounds for Bobby to finish the spell unhindered. But it's not bad to be safe."
"Ahm- yeah- Yeah I'll take kitchen.."
"Don't cross the salt, Cowboy," she warned playfully, reaching down to pick up and iron poker from the stand and pass one to Sam, "You too, Lucky. Always good to have a backup."
They each picked up their guns and cocked them, and no sooner had they done so did the lights begin to flicker. CJ could hear giggles, and the angry grumbling of multiple people. Flipping off the safety, and held it up to her eye, glaring a bit down the line as she took a knee and aimed at the entryway. Dean was just a few feet away from her, standing, but with his gun raised more to his chest. Sam stood by CJ, standing tall as they listened for the first of many ghosts.
" Bob- "
CRACK- !
The twins had barely materialized before they were blasted away, and CJ didn't even flinch as she cocked the gun again, and waited.
" Winches- "
CRACK-!
The sound came from the kitchen, and by the voice CJ knew that Henricksen had made another appearance.
" Dean- "
Ronald.
CRACK-
" Sam- "
Meg.
CRACK-
" B- "
CRACK-
" De- "
CRACK-
BOOM-
CRACK-
CRACK-
CRACK-
SWIFF-
CRACK-
SWIFF-
SWIFF-
CRACK-
CRACK-
CRACK-
The explosion of light was sudden and swift, white and blue in an almost holy essence bursting from the fireplace and sweeping through the house. CJ felt a coolness wash over her with the spell, and her eyes remained wide open as she drank in the light. It felt like jumping into the cool ocean on a hot day. Fresh and cleansing..
Her gun fell to the floor with a clatter, and she fell to her knees soon after. Her forehead pulsed suddenly, and she felt a pain bleating behind her eyes.
Mayhaps it wasn't a smart thing to keep her eyes open, then..?
After blinking a few seconds, she narrowed the pain down to be coinciding, and closed her eyes with a groan, throwing her head back and practically growling out her words. "Alright, which one of you dumbasses didn't close your eyes? I have a migraine now, and I am not cooking with fifty-percent of my usual balance."
"Dammit.."
Damn it, Dean..