Dearest Readers,

I hope you enjoyed last chapter! This one was also fun to write, as sometimes distance makes the heart grow fonder... I think. So of course Dean and Seph need to find other ways to display their affection for each other, and I think it turned out okay.

Let me know what you think and what you want to see from our favorite trio next! Also, if you are reading, please give this story a follow or even follow my account to make sure you stay up to date on all the latest updates!

XOXO Ally Layne.

Holy Water

Chapter 26: As Sweet as Meadowsweet

Being around the family was just what Persie needed, that was for sure. Her favorite thing was getting to spend time with her mom, Paul, and Estelle, so being able to take time away from monster hunting and focusing on them was a blessing she didn't know she needed.

However, she was adamant that the Winchesters keep in close communication with her during this hunt.

And so far, Sam has been the best method of contact. He was the most honest about their search, while it seemed that Dean didn't really try to tell her too many details. He was more focused on learning how her time was being spent with her family.

"So your mom, Sally, insisted that they wait for you to get home before any ornaments went up on the tree?" Dean asked over the phone.

Persie grinned from where she was laying on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. It was getting dark, and the second day she had spent at her mom and Paul's apartment.

"Yeah, she made Estelle hold off until I got home. I mean, it's not like she would've been able to get to the top of the tree, so I would've been able to put some up anyway, but it was nice to do it together."

Dean hummed. "Sammy and I never really had a tree growing up," he admitted.

"Well you should get here so you can say you have one for this Christmas," she told him. "Do you guys have any real leads yet?"

"How about your step-dad… Paul, is it?"

"Dean-"

"How has he been doing with having you home?"

"Dean, you're avoiding-"

"It must be weird having you home after being gone all the time, you know? Now with two girls-"

"Dean!" She exclaimed. "Stop cutting me off and answer the question."

"I'm curious, though."

She sighed. "And I'm curious about the case."

"Hasn't Sam already told you everything?"

Her brows raised. "Sammy-boy has told me a lot, yeah. But I want to hear it from you."

"Why? I'm sure Sam has told you everything that we both know."

Persie rolled her eyes. "I'm pretty sure that you aren't as dumb as you're making yourself out to be. Plus, you're good at explaining the situation as it is, not launching directly into explanations about every miniscule detail like Sam does, which can be a little annoying."

She heard Dean laugh. "That sounds like him."

"So tell me about what you've found."

"Well, it turns out that someone has been making wreaths out of meadowsweet, which happens to be one of the most powerful plants for pagan lore."

"Pagan lore?"

"Well, I know Sam told you that we're investigating people getting dragged up chimneys, and not in one piece. They're being used as sacrifices to the pagan god of the Winter Solstice, who in turn gives them mild weather. It's not snowing here, in Michigan, and we barely need our jackets."

"Gods, that sounds annoying. Do you know the name of the god you're looking for?"

Dean groaned, and something shuffled on the other end of the line before she heard his distant voice ask Sam who the god they were looking for was.

"Apparently his name is Hold Nickar and definitely a pagan god."

She let out a hum. "Well, I've never come into contact with a god that goes by that name. I'll see if I can find any equivalents on my end and see if that helps you guys out."

Dean coughed. "Listen, you don't need to do that-"

"Oh, I know. I want to," she told him. "Did you guys figure out who's making the wreaths?"

"We're looking into that, actually. We just visited the place where all those Martha Stewart wannabees were buying them from. The plan was to chum the water ourselves and hope to catch the thing off guard, but it turns out the place is completely sold out."

"Did you at least learn who the original seller was?"

"Yeah, the Carrigans. We're actually going over there to check them out."

Persie bit her lip. "Are you sure you don't need backup?"

Dean laughed again over the line. "Seph, we're gonna be fine."

She sighed. "Okay, okay, but just let me know what happens when you get back, okay? I'm invested in this. Especially considering we're dealing with deities here."

"Yeah, yeah. I'll call you on the way back. But just do me one favor, okay?"

"Yeah?"

"Go enjoy being with your family and get out of your room, Kelpie. Don't waste the time you have."

A small smile tugged at her lips. "Fine. As long as you call me later."

"Deal." Sam's muffled voice sounded from their room. "Look, I gotta go. Talk later, and remember what I said!"

"Sounds good Hot Shot, talk soon."

As soon as the line disconnected, she let the phone drop on the bed next to her.

She was definitely in trouble, she decided. And the trouble's name happened to be Dean Winchester.

.

.

.

When Sam and Dean drove up to the Carrigans, he knew this was going to likely be a waste of time. The two-story white colonial home was completely decked out with Christmas decorations like a life-size sleigh, a life size santa, and a small train that looked like it would light up during the night.

There was nothing scary or menacing about this house. It was just like every other home in white suburbia, and Madge Carrigan just happened to use pagan plants to put her wreaths together for the holidays.

Hopefully this was just a misunderstanding, and they could frolick off to New York in time for Christmas Eve, which was already tomorrow.

Dean walked right up to Sam, who was standing at the front of the walk, just staring at the scene with that constipated-thinking look of his.

"So this is where Mrs. Wreath lives, huh?"

Sam didn't even bother nodding.

"Can you just feel the evil pagan vibe?" He continued, looking up at his younger brother in amusement.

Yep, Sam still looked constipated.

He didn't bother hiding the roll of his eyes as he continued up the walkway to stand on the front porch just before the door, eying the door and it's elaborate display of bells, ribbon, and the large wreath. Instead of thinking too much into it, he shrugged and knocked on the door, ringing some of the bells as he did so.

A pudgy woman who wore her hair much like those old 50's shows and had a pearl necklace opened the door with wide eyes and a smile.

Dean instantly didn't like her.

"Yes?"

God, even her voice sounded cheery.

He titled his head, plastering a smile on his lips. "Please tell me you're the Madge Carrigan that makes the meadowsweet wreaths."

She took a slight step backward, her smile growing even wider at his words. "Why, yes I am."

"Ha! Bingo!" He exclaimed, giving his brother a small look.

Sam caught on. "Well, we were just admiring your wreaths in Mr. Syler's place the other day-"

Dean took the moment to peer in the door and check the surroundings.

Well, it definitely seemed the outside of the house was just a pregame for what Christmas disaster happened in their actual home. Decorations were placed in nearly every nook and cranny of that place that he could get his eyes on. Ribbon, green plants that looked like they were of the Christmas sort, and of course there was even a massive gingerbread house on their table.

"You were?" She asked, her eyebrows raised in what he could only describe as awestruck. "Well, isn't that meadowsweet just the finest smelling thing you ever smelled?"

"It is," Sam agreed. "It sure is, the only problem is that they were all sold out before we had the chance to buy one."

"Oh, fudge!" She exclaimed, her eyes wide.

Dean leaned in, trying to put some charm into his words. "You wouldn't have any extra ones that we could buy, would you?"

"Oh, I'm afraid those are the only ones I had for the season."

Well, there goes chumming the waters to lure the thing in.

"Do you mind if I ask you, why did you decide to make them out of meadowsweet?" He asked, hoping that he might be able to catch her off guard.

"Why, the smell of course!" She exclaimed, just as the man he presumed to be Mr. Carrigan walked down the stairs with an old-fashioned pipe poking out from his lips. "I don't think I've ever smelled anything finer."

Sam's smile wavered. "Yeah, uh, you mentioned that."

The brothers shared a look as Mr. Carrigan came into full view. "What's going on, honey?"

"Well these nice boys are just asking about my wreaths, dear," Madge told him, the cheerful grin still on her face.

Together, they looked as though they could have come from some weird cartoon. He gave them a white smile. "Oh, those wreaths are fine. Fine wreaths," he repeated, before holding out a tin of goodies. "Care for some peanut brittle?"

Dean immediately reached for some, but Sam grabbed his arm before he could. "Uh, we're okay, thank you."

Dean quickly nodded. "Yeah, we will just be going, then."

Sam said goodbye to the eerily cheery couple and they took a few quick steps toward the car before continuing at more of a leisurely pace. Hearing the last few "goodbyes" and
"come-agains," from the two followed by a door shutting behind them instantly put Dean into a more relaxed state as he went into the car.

"Who were those two, Mr. and Mrs. Smith?" he asked, before pulling out of the parking spot and started on the way back to the motel.

Sam sighed, shaking his head. "They're Mr. and Mrs. Carrigan, and I don't know about you, but they definitely don't seem normal."

Dean snorted. "Yeah, the cheerfulness and Mr. and Mrs. Clause vibes definitely scream pagan, Sam."

"Well something didn't seem right is all I'm saying," Sam continued. "They're definitely the most pleasant characters we've ever met."

"Which doesn't mean that something's always wrong, maybe they're just happy people."

Sam looked over at his brother. "Just think about it, Dean. When are people ever actually that happy?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Look, just because you hate Christmas doesn't mean you have to think that everyone else does, too."

"I don't hate Christmas-"

"Or just because it wasn't something that we always celebrated growing up like that, doesn't mean that other people can't do that and still be normal."

Sam sighed. "I know, Dean. It's just… something about them just seems off."

"Fine, I'll take that. But it's not good just to think that because they're happy."

"I know, Dean."

The rest of the drive back to the motel was a short one, and Sam got a call from Bobby just before they pulled into their parking space. "Evergreen? You sure about this, Bobby?"

Something muffled was said that Dean couldn't quite make out.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm not doubting you, it's just-"

Dean bit his tongue to keep himself from laughing at the put-out look Sam was fashioning.

"I know, Bobby. Thanks for the info." Sam snapped his phone shut.

Dean raised a brow at his brother. "Evergreen'll kill it?"

Sam nodded. "Looks like we gotta go find some evergreen."

Two hours later, Dean found himself sitting at the edge of his queen-sized bed, sharpening the end of evergreen branches with his hunting knife. They had lucked out at a local convenience store and they jumped on it and took as many as they could get their hands on.

"When did you say you'll call Persie, again?"

Dean's eyes widened and he dropped his knife. "Shit!" He put the piece of evergreen he was carving down and immediately fumbled for his phone, before noticing the look his brother was giving him. "Shut up, Sammy."

Sam let out a chuckle as he typed away on his laptop. "Did you seriously forget to call her?"

"I said to shut up."

He quickly pressed a number, ignoring his still chuckling brother, and brought his phone to his ear.

"Dean?"

The smile on his face was immediate. "Hey, Seph."

"Don't you "Hey, Seph," me, Dean Winchester. You forgot to call me, didn't you?"

This time, the look on Dean's face was enough to send Sam into a bout of laughter. "Well… I guess I didn't remember to call you."

"Which means you forgot."

"It's not entirely my fault, though," he quickly added. "After our conversation with Mr. and Mrs. Clause, your Uncle Bobby gave us a call and told us to get some evergreen so we could kill the thing."

"Give me one second," she said, though he wasn't sure if it was directed toward him or whoever was with her. There was some faint rustling and the sound of footsteps on the other line with muffled voices, then silence. "Okay, so Uncle B said evergreen will kill this thing?"

"Yep. So now I'm turning some general evergreen two by fours into some stakes to gank it."

"How handy of you, Hot Shot."

Dean blinked. Was she… flirting with him?

"You know what girls say about handymen?" She paused, her voice going lower.

His eyes widened. Yeah, she was definitely flirting.

"What do they say?"

"If I have to tell you, you missed the point."

Dean felt a smirk crossing his lips. "What's the point?"

"Dear gods, why do you always have to be this annoying? But back to your visit with Mr. and Mrs. Clause who I thought were supposed to be Mr. and Mrs. Carrigan, did you get anything?"

He snorted. "Just an experience with some really cheery cartoon characters."

"Well, I suppose Mr. and Mrs. Clause makes sense now."

"Mhm. And what were you in the middle of doing? I heard some voices in the background," he pointed out, piquing Sam's interest. It seems that's all it took to tear his little bro away from his search.

"A few people from camp are over for dinner. A lot of them don't get to go home for the holidays so dinner at the Jackson-Blofis Apartment is apparently a staple," she explained. "It started when I went missing and Annabeth would come over with updates nearly once a week. I guess she and my mom stay in touch, now."

"How many people go over to your mom's place for dinner during the holidays, now?"

"Uhm… today it's just Nico, Annabeth, and Jason. A lot of the others either went back to California for the Roman camp, or went home for a few days."

"That sounds nice," he admitted. "Listen, Sam and I are going to-"

Sam clapped his hands. "I knew it!"

Dean snapped his attention over to his brother. "Knew what?"

"Something was way off with those two," He continued.

"Is that Sam?"

"Yes, it's Sam," Dean told her, putting the phone on speaker before asking, "What did you find?"

"The Carrigans lived in Seattle last year where two abductions took place just before Christmas," Sam started. "They moved here in January. All that Christmas crap in their house wasn't boughs of holly, it was vervain and mint."

"Pagan stuff?"

Sam nodded. "Serious pagan stuff."

"Mr. and Mrs. Clause are trying to summon pagan gods or something?"

"More like Ozzie and Harriet are keeping a pagan god hidden underneath their plastic covered couch."

"I don't know," Sam admitted. "But what I do know is that we gotta check them out."

"What about Uncle B?" Persie asked over the phone. "He's sure evergreen stakes will kill it, right?"

Dean looked over at Sam intently before grabbing and holding a stake up, inspecting the sharp point he had carved. "Yeah, he's sure."

"Are you sure you don't need any backup?"

"We'll be fine, Seph," Dean told her, turning the phone back off speaker and putting it to his ear. "You can go back with your family and friends and I'll remember to give you a call this time, okay?"

She let out a huff, making his lips turn into a smile. "I don't like this, Hot Shot."

"I know we both wish you were here too, but Sam and I have been doing this for a long time, sweetheart. Don't worry too much about us."

"Promise?"

His smile waned. "I promise."

God, he hoped that was a promise he'd be able to keep.

.

.

.

It was almost poetic the way music was playing in the lit-up front yard of the Carrigans, playing "O Come All Ye Faithful" just as they were about to go stick a stake into some pagan god and end their existence once and for all.

They weren't feeling too faithful, that's for sure.

Dean was shouldering a bag that held the stakes he had carved up, ready for quick use. When they got to the front door, Sam took out two stakes from his bag while Dean leaned down and used a lock-picking tool to unlock the door quickly and quietly, hoping to not alert anyone inside or outside.

God only knows that the suburbs are a hotspot for nosy neighbors, which at the wrong time could definitely mean bad news for the brothers.

Dean opened the door and they let themselves in, armed with stakes. It felt a little weird not having their guns, but they both knew they would do no good in this situation.

After closing the door, Dean immediately noticed something he had totally called earlier. "See?" he pointed at the couch. "Plastic."

They walked silently throughout the main level of the house until going through the kitchen to see a door. Dean nodded to Sam who opened it, and they made their way down into the basement, using a flashlight to guide their way.

Dean's flashlight immediately illuminated a sink full of bloody fingers, and that's when they both knew they were in the right place.

It looked like a torture chamber.

There were fingers, mutilated body parts, and a table full of rib bones that Dean noted as he walked past. When his flashlight hit a large, red bag in the corner of the room, he knew they were now surely dealing with the evil Santa.

When Sam walked over to the large bag hanging off a wall, it took only one touch for someone to start moving inside, and sound like they were gagged while screaming to be let out.

"Sam!"

Dean immediately was hit by an unseen force, thrown into the wall headfirst.

He didn't even have time to blink.

Sam was hauled up against the wall, held there by the single hand of whatever was wearing the face of Madge.

She clucked her teeth at him. "Gosh, I wish you boys hadn't come down here."

And with one motion, she pulled him forward and slammed his head against the wall, rendering him unconscious.

It looked like Dean wasn't going to keep his promise, after all.