Holy Water [Dean Winchester]

1: Rabbit Feet and Stuff

Hey readers! 

OMFG I'M SO EXCITED FOR THIS STORY!!! I've ALWAYS loved Supernatural and was totally a fan of PJO, so now they're mashed together! I'm writing another fem!Percy story called "Do Not Go Gentle" and fell in love with writing him as a female, so I knew I had to do it again. 

After I was scrolling through Tumblr and all the Supernatural fandom posts, this came to mind, and I just went with it. I think you are all going to be pleasantly surprised about how this turns out. 

Let me know what you think about this first chapter!

XOXO Ally Layne

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"Now look, Bobby, we didn't know," Sam Winchester's voice said, coming from the phone open on Bobby Singer's desk.

The older man was wearing his typical plaid and ball cap and got a call, distracting him from working on the Colt. That gun was the only thing that had the power to kill demons that they could get their hands on, so Bobby was going to get the damn thing working or die trying.

But, of course, he has to save the Winchester boys' asses once again.

"You touched it?" He ran his hand over the top of his ball cap, letting it slip forward onto his forehead then back to where it started. "Damn it, Sam..."

"Well, dad never told us about this thing," Sam retorted.

Bobby rolled his eyes.

"I mean, you knew about his storage place in Black Rock?"

The older man let out a sigh. "His lock-up? Yeah, I knew. Hell, I built those curse boxes for him." He shook his head slightly before continuing, "Listen, you have got a serious problem. That rabbit's foot ain't some dime-store notion. It's real hoodoo, old-world stuff. It was made by a Batton Rouge conjuring woman bout a hundred years ago."

A creak sounded from the floorboards, just outside his office.

He turned to see what made the noise and paused when he saw a woman standing there, dark hair tied up in a sloppy ponytail wearing a plain white t-shirt and some old ripped jeans. Her green eyes were vibrant and wide as she locked eyes with him.

He pursed his lips.

"It's a hell of a luck charm."

Bobby turned his attention back to his phone, his agitation building. "It's not a luck charm, it's a curse- she made it to kill people, Sam!" He let out a sigh. "See, you touch it, you own it. You own it? Sure, you get a run of good luck to beat the Devil, but you lose it? That luck turns. Turns so bad that you're dead inside a week."

Bobby watched carefully as the dark-haired woman placed her duffle down by a spare chair in front of his desk, and sat down softly. Her eyes were wide as she heard everything he said.

Boy was he gonna have to explain some things later.

"Well, so I won't lose it, Bobby."

The older man groaned, smacking the table beneath him with his free hand. "Everybody loses it!"

The younger woman leaned back slightly at his outburst, and he just did his best to ignore her reactions until he had some time.

"Well, how do you break the curse?" Sam demanded, his voice coming out loud and stern through the cellphone.

Bobby let out a deep sigh, leaning back in his chair. "I don't know if you can." His eyes met the woman's again. "Let me look through my library and make some calls." He sighed, looking back down at the disassembled Colt in front of him. "Just sit tight."