A/N: Apparently I was wrong about this being the last chapter. The story has decided to hang on just a bit longer. The actual last chapter should be done by next week.
A/N2: I promise the two girls in this chapter are NOT Mary Sue's. No relationships, not even a little nookie on the side. Just necessary for the story's conclusion.
They pulled into what looked like a typical strip center, one with little to offer besides a health food store, a sushi bar, and auto window tinting. He spotted the bar just past the strip center, more a corporate chain bar and grill than their usual choices, but they served alcohol so it would do. He didn't see the bookstore at first, wouldn't have seen it if he weren't looking for it. There were two small windows on either side of the double doors, the bright evening sun making it impossible to see inside.
"You sure this is the right place, Sammy? Doesn't look like much to me."
"Yeah, this is the place. There are couple of specific things I'm looking for so we shouldn't be in there too long."
"We? No way, Sam! The plan was you go do your nerd thing while I have a drink. Take your time. I'll be next door drowning my sorrows."
"Actually, you agreed to go with me since I went to see the dinosaur tracks with you."
"That doesn't even count! I wanted to see dinosaur bones, not the damn footprints. So no way am I going to the bookstore." He knew Sam was up to something now.
"Well I don't know what good a bar will do. You can't drink while taking your pain meds. So you may as well come inside."
Parking the car, he fumed, preparing a well placed smack upside his little brother's head. "Well thanks for waiting until now to remind me of that little fact. This better be worth it or payback is a bitch."
"I told you I'd be quick. Now can we go in before the place closes?"
As they walked in the front door, he was surprised to see the store was much larger than it appeared from the outside, as large as many of the full priced stores he'd been dragged to over the years. "You said this was a used bookstore, right?"
"Yeah. Bobby recommended it. Said he'd gotten some good stuff through them, some of the hard to find texts. They're supposed to have a good selection of older books as well."
He figured he might as well wander the store and hope Sam was right, for the possibility of a hot girl to flirt with. "So where will you be when I get bored?"
"Either in the Metaphysics section or here," he said motioning to a section labeled Nostalgia. "The older stuff is collectible. I'll come find you when I'm done. It really shouldn't take long."
A quick look around, Dean spotted several possible targets, surprisingly all employees of the store. Two in particular were at a counter with the sign "Sell Your Books Here." You may have something there little brother. His trip around the store, noting where the Metaphysics section was and getting some coffee, didn't add any prospects to the list, so he wandered back to the front of the store, stopping one aisle before what he now knew they called the "buy counter". He grabbed a few car magazines, silently complained about the lack of seating, and settled in for a long wait. His brother always said he'd be quick in bookstores and never took less than a hour. Trying to look like he was concentrating on his magazine, he eavesdropped, bits of the conversation between the two women from before caught his attention.
"Hey Hannah, did you see the freaking sweet car parked out front?"
"Which one is it?"
"The only car out there worth drooling over. The '67 Impala in perfect condition!"
"A '67? I didn't see it, but I think I did see the hot guys it belongs to. One of them seemed just your type." That made Dean chuckle to himself. Still got it, even fresh out of the hospital.
"Do think it's them? He didn't give us any way of recognizing them when they got here."
Dean's curiosity was suddenly piqued. He knew Sam was up to something, but had no clue what. Maybe they have something to do with one of the possible cases.
"Darla, you know he isn't great with those kinds of details. Besides, Bobby wouldn't use the word hot to describe anyone, much less other guys."
Bobby? What the hell is going on?
"All he said was the two guys, brothers, would come in tonight. Said their names were...oh, crap. I know I wrote the names down somewhere."
Dean was pretty certain they were the expected brothers. Now to go find and kill a little brother! Before he could walk away, they started talking again.
"Wait, here it is. Sam and Dean. He said to expect them this evening. They're driving in from Glen Rose."
"Sam and Dean? As in Winchester? Damn, Hannah! Why didn't you say so sooner?"
"Winchester? You mean THE Winchesters? Bobby didn't say anything about that. The damn idiot. I swear I'll skin him alive the next time I see him."
It was still a surprise each time they came across someone who knew of them, someone other than the FBI. They didn't know how large the Hunting community was until they'd met Ellen and Jo, then Gordon and learned a little of what their father had kept secret all these years. It was nice to know they made enough of a difference to have a good reputation with other Hunters. But these girls didn't strike him as Hunters. He needed to go find Sam and get to the bottom of things.
It only took Sam about ten minutes to find what he need from the rare book section. In particular was a very old text on Early American Occult Practices and a spell book that was over a hundred years old. The Metaphysics section wasn't much help. Most of what he found was the typical stories of hauntings, cheesy urban legends, and books of love spells. He even found a book that supposedly taught the reader how to hunt monsters. No wonder so many people think they can do our job. Checking his watch, he realized it was almost time to meet Bobby's friends. He was headed to the front to find Dean when his brother rounded the corner, looking very determined. It was a look Sam didn't like aimed at him.
Crap! Did he figure out why we're here?
"Sam, we need to talk." His look went from determined to irritated.
"Okay. What did you need to talk about?" Sam tried to play dumb, like he didn't notice his brother was upset.
"In private, so I can kill you. Now!"
Sighing, Sam knew he was busted, but didn't know how much his brother knew. Someday he would stop underestimating Dean. "What do you want to know?"
"Gee, I don't know. Maybe you could tell me why we're really here and who we're here to meet. For starters."
"We're here for you." He knew that wouldn't be enough, but it might slow the irritation.
"For me? How are we here for me?"
Sam took a deep breath and prepared for the storm that would be Hurricane Dean when he told him the truth. "I've been worried about you, the way you are with the car. It's not natural. So I asked Bobby for a favor..."
"You talked to Bobby about this!?! Thanks a lot, Sam. Now I'll never hear the end of it."
"Would you let me finish? Anyway, I asked Bobby if he could help."
"Help with what?"
"Seriously, dude. Shut the hell up and let me finish!" He took another deep breath and decided to just come right out with the truth. "I asked him if there was a way to make a charm for the Impala, to protect it from be possessed again. You know, like the ones he gave us last month when I..." He couldn't even bring himself to say when I shot you.
"That wasn't necessary. I'm fine. The car is fine. We don't need to bother Bobby with it. That still doesn't explain why we're here, why those two girls I overheard are expecting us."
"Bobby sent us to them. They were going to help with the charms or some other fix. They...they're witches."
"What!?! Why the hell do we need damn witches? Are you trying to get us killed?"
"Dean, would you keep your voice down? They aren't that kind of witch. They don't serve demons. And Bobby completely trusts them. I wouldn't go to just anyone with this problem. Don't you think I know how much your car means to you? We need to go now. I'm supposed to meet them in about ten minutes."
"At least Bobby sent us to hot witches. They better not screw up my car or I'll kick your ass for it."
He still couldn't believe that Sam brought them to see witches, no matter how hot they were. Or that he agreed to let them anywhere near his car. Maybe if I go along with this, Sam will stop asking if I'm ok and staring at me while I drive.
They were supposed to meet the girls at their place to get the needed supplies. If he were willing to admit to himself, he hoped the charm, spell, or whatever they were going to do to his car made a difference. He wanted to feel safe in his car and couldn't always depend on Sam being there. They had to split up on a lot of cases to get the research done quickly.
They pulled up in the driveway of a small house about thirty minutes outside the city. It seemed normal enough, except for the sound of chickens and ducks that greeted them. One of the witches, Darla, came out and waved them over to the house. As they got out of the car, he got a better look at the surroundings. The backyard was fenced in, several kinds of birds wandered the yards. The front had a little garden with fairies, gargoyles, and even a Big Foot statue placed throughout, nothing to suggest danger. "Hey, Sam. Check out your Sasquatch twin in the garden."
"Ha ha ha. Always so funny." Dean knew Sam hated some of the nicknames he came up with, but judging from the slight smile he tried to hide, the attempt at humor was appreciated. They'd had precious little since Glen Rose, maybe even before.
"Welcome to our little farm. Hope you found the place ok. It is a little out of the way." He was still surprised at how normal everything seemed.
"Yeah, no problem. The directions were pretty straightforward. What's up with all the birds?" Sam looked at him with that pissy face he made, expected him to say something stupid. He gave back a look that said I promised I would be nice to the witches. Chill out.
"All part of having a farm. They lay eggs. Anything else you'd like to know?"
"Nah, let's just get the show on the road, so we can do the same." He couldn't let go of the idea of witches being evil. But everything he saw was the furthest from his expectations. "Though I do dig the Big Foot in the garden. Kinda reminds me of my brother." The pissy face returned.
"Thanks. Hannah will be right out with the ingredients. Nice car by the way. Does it have the original 327 or have you made the proper improvements?"
"She hasn't had the 327 for a long time. Completely rebuilt her myself about 6 months ago." Ok, Sammy. I guess you might be forgiven. As he talked, she walked over to the car and began a more thorough examination.
"Not bad. Looks almost like she came right off the showroom floor. No wonder you came to us. Gotta keep a beauty like this protected. I know we talked a little last night about what we'll be doing. It's a simple cleanse and consecrate spell. It should clear away any negative energy and protect it from future problems. The spell isn't permanent, so you'll need to watch how it is done."
"How often will the spell need to be performed?" Sam couldn't resist asking questions, knowing how every tiny thing worked. "Does it have to be done at a specific time? Can anyone do it?" As his little brother played twenty questions, he wandered up the front steps to the house. He needed to see inside, both out of curiosity and to make sure nothing suspicious was going on inside. As he reached for the door, the other woman, Hannah, opened it and invited him in.
"I promise you we don't bite. Unless that's what you want." She smirked as her comment obviously caught him off guard. "Nothing in here but the usual. Living room, kitchen, bedrooms, and lots of cats and dogs. Careful with that one, she likes to climb," she said as a little white cat with black ears attempted to crawl up his leg. "Bobbi, get down!"
He snorted and had to ask, "Bobby? You said she."
"Yeah funny thing about that. She and her brother Corbett were supposed to be barn cats. We thought they were both boys and found out we were wrong, so now Bobby is spelled with an I instead of a Y."
"She's about as scary as Bobby, though we like to let him believe we're afraid." He couldn't wait to give the older hunter a hard time about it. Named after an adorable, female cat.
"I know what you're thinking. Don't you dare say a word to him! He'd kill me, then maybe you for good measure."
"Ok, ok. Speaking of Bobby, how do you two know him? You don't seem like Hunters to me."
"We're definitely not Hunters, but we help when we can. Bobby was in town a few years back, working a local legend. Turned out to be the spirit of a young boy. He went to the only shop we have around here for ingredients. That's where we met. Darla and I just happened to be in the shop that day getting supplies for a protection spell for a friend. Darla is kinda nosy and next thing I knew we'd offered to help. Now he sends us Hunters he can trust that need our help. Some don't because we're witches. They think we're like those wanna-be witches who work with demons."
"Wait, I thought that was how it worked, how witches got their power."
"If you thought that, why are you here?"
"Because Bobby sent us. And Sam wants to make me all better. They trust you. Guess I figured I'd suck it up and just watch my back."
"Well, you don't have to worry. Real witches don't go in for that demon nonsense. It goes against everything we stand for, against our main guiding principle. We do no harm. None. Not to others, not to ourselves, none whatsoever. Any negativity we put out comes back on us three times worse."
"Huh? That is so not what we've come across in our research."
"Guess you might want to do more research. Or maybe ask a witch, a real witch. Ok, enough of that. What happened with the car that it needs the spell?"
Telling the woman what she needed to know, Dean made a mental note to have a talk with Bobby about a few things later. Things that both he and their father never bothered to mention to them. Though Dean now wondered if maybe their Dad didn't know as much as he always thought. He never did want to see flaws in his hero, but after discovering an entire community of Hunters existed that John failed to tell them about, it was time to see the man as the imperfect, human person he was.