Selfless // Dean Winchester

14. Witch Trouble

   Y/N settled onto the couch and rested her feet on the coffee table, several newspapers in hand. It was her job to search for any indication of witchcraft in town in the past. Dean watched as she opened the first paper, a slight pout on her face. She would much rather be asking around at the school like Sam was.

   She'd ditched the formal FBI attire for a casual black fitted Henley and ripped jeans, but her hair remained in a high bun, save the few loose curls that framed her face. Dean noticed that she still mouthed the words as she read them- a habit he'd found adorable nine years ago and still did.

   "Take a pic, it'll last longer," Y/N murmured without looking up.

   Dean opened his mouth but no sarcastic comment came to mind. He quickly looked down.

   Eventually, she slapped the papers on the table and sighed. "There's nothing here."

   As if on cue, Dean's phone buzzed. He and Y/N glanced at each other before he answered.

   "So, get this," began Sam. "I found the girlfriend. Ali Spencer. She eventually told me he's been seeing another girl. Ali wanted to get some kind of revenge, so she turned to her aunt, who's been visiting town for the past week. I think she's the witch. Y/N was right." He paused. "Don't tell her I said that."

   "Where are you?" asked Dean, ignoring the way Y/N raised her eyebrows to say, "What's going on?"

   "I'm heading to their house to check for spell ingredients and such."

   "Want us to meet you there?"

   "Not necessary. I've got witch-killing bullets if anything comes up. I'll send you the address just in case, though."

   "Be careful." After hanging up, Dean turned to Y/N.

   "Well?" she said.

   "Sam thinks the kid's girlfriend's aunt killed the kid," Dean explained. "He's handling it."

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   Half an hour passed before Sam called again. He was barely able to say a full sentence before there was a thud, then silence.

   "I was wrong, it's not just the aunt, it's-"

   Dean immediately grabbed his jacket and made for the door. Y/N followed after a moment's hesitation.

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   The floor creaked beneath their feet, sending an echo through the house. They kept their guns raised, ready and loaded with witch-killing bullets. There had been no cars in the driveway, but there was a good chance Sam was still here.

   Dean went upstairs to look around while Y/N explored the ground floor. Opening what looked like the door to a closet, she found stairs leading to a basement. I know one of the most important rules of a horror movie, Y/N said to herself, You should never go down a dark staircase alone. But what was the worst that could happen? There could be nothing down there. She was armed and ready, anyway. She drew in a deep breath and felt around the wall for a light switch. Nothing.

   Y/N turned on the miniature flashlight she'd grabbed from her car. While it was nothing like the Impala's trunk, she tended to keep the Mustang stocked with weapons and random things that could prove useful to a hunter. A nail file, for example, could cut through rope or kill somebody if stabbed in the right place. Come to think of it, I need to buy a new file, she thought. Her old one was tinted red with blood.

   She reached the bottom of the stairs and pointed her light around the room. She gasped when it landed on an unconscious figure in the corner with his hands and legs bound. "Sam!"

   He slowly opened his eyes. Suddenly, her gun flew out of her hands and clattered against the wall. Y/N whirled around to see a girl she could only assume was Ali Spencer. Ali raised her hands and uttered an incantation that slammed Y/N against the wall, causing her to black out.

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   "Y/N." Someone was shaking her shoulder. "Y/N, this time I'll really slap you."

   "No need." She opened her eyes. The room was full of a low, warm light, coming from a ring of candles in the middle of the floor, surrounding a bowl and several spell ingredients. Ali was nowhere to be seen. Y/N's wrists and ankles were tied.

   Upon seeing she was awake, Sam half-chuckled, half-sighed. He sounded relieved.

   "How long was I out?" she asked.

   "Not long. Ten minutes, maybe. Where's Dean?"

   "Safe, I think," she confirmed, knowing that was what Sam was really asking. She turned to look at him for the first time. There were bloodstains under his nose and on the corner of his mouth. He also had what would definitely turn into a black eye.

   "Are you okay?" he asked, noticing her staring.

   "I should be asking you," she replied.

   Sam shrugged. "We need to find a way out of here."

   Y/N twisted her arms to her back pocket, where her fingers could barely brush the nail file. "Give me a minute." After several tries, she was able to firmly grip it and begin sawing. Each motion made the rope dig painfully into her wrist, but she went on.

   "Oh, you're both awake. Good," came a slightly accented voice. A tall, woman with brown skin and dark, curly hair came into view at the bottom of the steps. Behind her, Ali followed. "I was just teaching my niece here a simple concealing spell. If your friend opens that door up there, he'll find nothing but a closet."

   "I thought you said it wasn't the aunt!" Y/N whispered furiously to Sam.

   "I said it wasn't just the-"

   "Oh, please shut up," said the aunt.

   Y/N glared, then realized holding a conversation would distract them from the fact that she'd cut nearly halfway through the rope. She nodded at Ali. "So, what, you're her apprentice or something?"

   Ali opened her mouth but the woman interrupted. "Her mother and I were born into a coven. Did you know that? We were going to be two of the greatest witches of all time. But my sister backed out of the life. Said she wanted to settle down and raise a family. We scared her. She thought we were freaks. She turned her back on us!" Her voice rose, and she steadied it. "So, I'm doing what she fears most- teaching Allison." She looked at the girl affectionately. "I was so proud when I saw what she did to that boy. She's just getting started on hex bags."

   "How do you even know she wants to be a witch?" said Sam.

   Ali raised her hand and whispered a few words. Sam began to violently cough.

   "Stop!" yelled Y/N.

   "Tone it down, Allison," said the aunt, and the girl obeyed. Sam stopped coughing. "We have different ways to deal with hunters."