Into Darkness (Supernatural)

~VII~ - A Witch Problem

~VII~ – A Witch Problem

"You know, it doesn't bother me when you ask for my help, but, you do realize that I've got other things to worry about, right?" I ask Sam as I'm in a motel room that he's currently sharing with his brother.

"Well, we figured we might want some more fire power," says Sam, who's on a couch, with a large device on the coffee table. He's flipping through the pages of a book.

I notice a small bag, which is unraveled. Its contents are all over the place. "What is this?"

"Hex bag. Witches use them."

I examine it closer. "So, you summoned me here to help you with a witch problem?"

"If you were really busy, Vera, and were in the middle of something important, you wouldn't have come."

I glare down at Sam, slightly offended. I don't say anything, but I mull over his words. Knowing me, I would most likely drop everything, unless dire circumstances told me to not, just to fly to his aid. I still can't explain why, since Ruby is nowhere to be found with the Winchester brothers currently.

"How goes that search, anyway?"

"We're not having any luck," I sigh. "She's good at covering her tracks. All we can find are low life demons. We've got more misses than hits in this."

The motel room door opens, and Dean Winchester walks in. He tosses his keys on a table under the window of the room, before reaching into a bowl and unwrapping something sweet. He abruptly halts when he and I make eye contact.

"Great. How'd you get here?"

"Good to see you too," I say in the same tone of voice. "Your brother asked me here."

"Dude, we've got this," Dean says to Sam. "Why does she need to be around?"

"She could help us out," Sam says, shrugging. "Worth a try, right?"

"Considering the last time I saw her you lied to me about who she was, it's not." Dean pops the sweet into his mouth.

I roll my eyes. "I told you who and what I was. The fact that you chose to not believe me was your own stupidity."

"Really?" Sam asks his brother. "After that guy choked down all those razor blades?"

"It's Halloween, man."

"Yeah, for us every day is Halloween."

Dean sits on the arm of the couch near Sam, peering down at the research. "Don't be a downer. Anything interesting?"

"Well, we're on a witch hunt, that's for sure, but this isn't your typical hex bag."

"Hmm, no?"

Sam picks up a dried flower piece. "Goldthread, an herb that's been extinct for two hundred years. And this," he picks up a silver piece, "is Celtic, and I don't mean the new age knock-off. It looks like the real deal, like six hundred years old real."

I pick up a charred piece and take a whiff. I gently set it back down when I realize what it is. "That's just wrong," I mutter.

"Yeah, and, um...that is the charred metacarpal bone of a newborn baby."

"I know what it is."

"Gross," Dean comments.

"Well, the only upside is that it's very old, a hundred years at least," says Sam.