Supernatural: Witching Hour p1

SUPERNATURAL: 'Witching Hour'</u>

Sam Winchester had learned over the years that it was just easier to humor his brother than to argue with him.

Dean had been bugging his younger brother about going to Salem, Massachusetts for quite some time – it had been, thankfully, a slow couple of months for cases. Sam was convinced that it was a hype town, geared towards tourists seeking cheap and stereotypical witchery, but Dean had always harbored a sort of secret fascination for the town's dark history. It was because of that fascination that Sam was now getting an earful of witch trials lore – and trying to ignore Dean's ramblings.

"Did you know that they never actually burned anyone at the stake? They only hanged them. And there were actually some men who were convicted too."

Sam sighed. "If you know so much about this place, why are we going there? And since when are you this interested in witches? Last time we ran into a coven you wouldn't shut up about how much you hated them."

Dean cast his crooked smile on his brother. "Research," he said, looking back at the road ahead of them after a moment. "There's got to be more of them where those three came from. It's called knowing your enemy." Giving his brother another glance, he finally sighed. "Oh come on, Sam. You've got to admit, it is pretty cool. I mean, it's not every day we get to check out a place with this kind of history."

Sam didn't want to burst his brother's bubble any more than he already had, and so refrained from reminding Dean that they did, in fact, come across locales with just as much history, if not more. Sam turned onto the exit ramp from the highway and after a short drive, they were in the town. A fresh layer of rainwater covered the ground, a storm having just passed a few hours earlier. Despite his misgivings, Sam thought the town was pretty with the drops catching the sunlight on the trees…and he was surprised that the first thing he saw was not a touristy witch store.

Instead, it was a girl.

As they drove past, Sam noticed as the girl walked out of a little house next to a coffee shop and rounded the corner, only to stop in front of a car and throw her head back in what he figured was frustration.

"Mind if I stop for a coffee?" Sam asked, not really caring about his brother's answer.

Dean shrugged. "When have I ever said no to coffee?" he replied, his eyes taking in the beautiful scenery.

Sam pulled into the parking lot of the coffee shop and stopped the car in the space right next to the girl's driveway. He got out and unzipped his jacket, the air uncharacteristically warm for an early April morning, while Dean hopped out of the passenger side.

"Hey," Sam called jovially to the girl, who leaned against the car with her brow plastered on the window and her eyes shut. "Need any help?"

Dean had started to walk towards the coffee shop door, but stopped when he heard his brother call out. He pivoted around and went back to the car, a sly look on his face.

"You didn't actually want coffee, did you?" Dean accused with a grin. Sam ignored him.

The girl opened her eyes and glanced at Sam, displaying a pair of warm brown eyes behind a pair of glasses. She raised her eyebrows at him but didn't pick up her head.

"Are you any good at summoning keys from behind a locked door?"

Sam stifled a grin, not wanting to feel amused at the girl's misfortune. "No, but I do have some experience picking locks."

"What are you, some kind of cat burglar?" the girl replied, sounding frustrated.
"Thanks, but I'd rather not chance it."

Sam glanced over his shoulder at Dean, who bit his lip to keep from laughing. He then turned back to the girl, who sighed and banged her head against the car door gently.

Feeling Sam's gaze on her, she picked up her head and sighed.
"Look, if you're that desperate to help, then by all means, break into my house," she sighed finally.

Sam smiled and pulled his lock picking kit from his pocket. He headed up the porch stairs and set to work on the door. The girl looked across the top of the car and met Dean's eyes. He smiled his crooked smile and looked at the house. It looked really old, but had a weird sort of charm to it that Dean couldn't quite figure out.

"You live here?" he asked, realizing how absurd the question was only after he said it.

The girl grinned in reply. "Technically, yes," she replied. "It's my housing for school. I go to Salem State, just up the road a ways." Before Dean could reply, the girl gave him a knowing look. "You're the Winchesters," she said, a statement rather than a question.

Sam left off his work for a second and looked up at her. "Yeah…how did you know?"

"It's not every day we have two cute guys driving around town in a '67 Impala," she answered, trying to stifle a chuckle. "It's kind of a dead giveaway. You guys are a little late – Halloween was six months ago."

Dean furrowed his brow in amazement. "But how did you know about the car? Or that there were two of us?"

The girl grinned. "In a place like this, guys like you are pretty popular material. Going around, fighting ghosts and monsters and shit…people around here talk about people like you a lot." She paused for a moment and extended her hand to Dean.

"I'm Luci," she said.

"Dean Winchester," he replied with a half smile, "but you already knew that, didn't you?"

Luci chuckled and turned to Sam, who was back at work picking the lock. "Thanks, Sam. I really appreciate the help."

"No problem," Sam replied, finally unlocking the door. "It's nice to meet you, Luci."

Luci nodded and brushed a lock of dark brown hair out of her face. She tucked a lock of her dark brown hair behind her ear with a slight blush and gestured to the house. "Can I invite you in for coffee or something? It only holds fair that I return the favor."

Sam stepped aside and glanced at his brother. "Thanks, but we were just going to head in there," he said, turning back to Luci and gesturing to the coffee shop.

"You really are from out of town," Luci snorted with a laugh. "That place is awful. Besides, I won't charge you for the beans or the fancy cup."

Sam looked again to Dean, who shrugged and grinned. "She's convinced me," Dean said.
Sam rolled his eyes. Typical Dean, hitting on just about every girl he laid eyes on. Dean simply sauntered past his younger brother with his lopsided grin, slapping him on the chest as he followed Luci into the house.

The house was old, and it wasn't just the creaks and groans that led the Winchesters to figure that one out. The size of the rooms and the floor plan were typical of early American housing, and the old black and white photographs lining the walls showed faces from hundreds of years ago.

"These your relatives?" Dean asked, stopping to study a framed picture of a somber-looking family in nineteenth century dress.

"No," Luci replied from the kitchen, where she was starting the coffee, "well, yes. Some of them are. Most of them are just pictures I've found in the town records that I liked and made prints of." She pressed the button to turn on the coffee maker and then joined Dean and Sam. "That's a picture of my family," Luci nodded with a smile, pointing at the picture Dean was looking at. She took it off of its nail in the wall and wiped a little of the dust away from the glass. "Those are my great-great-grandparents, James and Rose Marbury, and their two sons. The older one was my great-grandfather, John. Their names are on the back – I don't remember what his brother's was."

"Did they live here?" Sam asked, looking curiously at Luci and pointing to the background of the picture. "That looks like this house."

Luci sighed, going into the kitchen as the coffee started percolating. "Yeah, they did. When I said this was my housing for school, it was sort of half-true. It's where I live, but it doesn't belong to the school. This house has been in my family since…I think the 1680s or something. I grew up across town, but this house has been in my family for a long time."

Dean put the photograph back on the wall and entered the kitchen. "So your family was here during the witch trials," he said, his eyes taking in all the structural details of the room.

"Yeah, they were. I tend not to tell my classmates that, though. A lot of them are freaky about that witch occult bullshit," Luci replied, pouring the fresh coffee into two mugs. "Cream's in the fridge if you want it. I'll get the sugar."

Dean narrowed his eyes, catching sight of a bundle of dried herbs tucked in the juncture of two beams near the ceiling. He made a mental note to check it out later; or at least have Sam check it out. He glanced over his shoulder at Sam, who was stirring a little sugar into his coffee. Sam looked back at him, and Dean shifted his gaze to the herbs. Sam caught on and followed his brother's eyes, his quick mind starting to run through its database of plants their properties.  

"You guys are awful quiet."

Luci's voice snapped the Winchesters back into the moment and Sam took a sip of his coffee. "Sorry," he said with a gentle smile. "Long drive."

Luci came over to the table and sat next to Sam. "Maybe you should take a nap," she chuckled. "My last roommate moved out about two weeks ago, so there's yet another free room."

"You seem like a nice enough girl," Dean commented casually. "Why'd she move out?"

"I dunno," Luci said with a shrug. "She just sort of…left. Came downstairs one morning saying that she couldn't take my freaky crap anymore and left."

Dean furrowed his brow at her in curiosity. "Freaky crap…like what? I know freaky, and so far you don't fit the pattern."

"A house as old as this one is bound to make some obnoxious noises from time to time, especially this time of year," Luci sighed, "but Eden complained that there was a girl standing outside her window at night, and apparently she looked a hell of a lot like me. I wouldn't do that – I already told you I don't buy into that witch crap."

Sam's brow wrinkled in consternation. "Then who would it be?" he asked, his green eyes scanning Luci's face.

Luci stood up with another sigh. "This is gonna sound really stupid and crazy, but…Eden showed me who it was." She walked into the parlor where the photographs were and led the Winchesters over to the old brick fireplace. Hanging over the mantle was an 8 by 10 painting of a young woman – a girl that looked remarkably like the one that was showing them the portrait...