The next day came, I slept in a different hotel than the boys, as I wanted the full service of a hotel. Not some run down room, with bland colors. I slept like a baby though, the sheets were comfy, and the pillows were excellent, but the company was even better. It was a man this time around...

My sights beheld the parking lot of the motel the Winchesters' and Bobby were staying at. I see old man Dean, and Sam pushing Bobby up the steep slope of the car park. As he couldn't do it on his own.

"You know, I still think I should play," Sam's voice rang in my ears, as I made my way over to them.

"No, no,no," Dean spoke quickly, halting, and turning around to face Sam. "You're not good enough. I'm better. Bobby's way better,"

"And I'm even better," I added into the mix, making them cock their gazes to me briefly. "But we all lost," their eyebrows seemed to raise at the mention. "Oh, I didn't play. He wouldn't let me," I heard Dean moan, as this wasn't going to go his way.

"So, what? So I don't get a say in this anymore?" Sam's eyes cocked between Bobby and Dean.

"Sammy, when you get to be our age --"

"You're Thirty, Dean!" Sam cuts his brother off. "Look, I've watched you hustle plenty of poker--"

"Knowing the game is not enough, Sam," Bobby interrupts, cutting Sam off. All focus now went to him. "It's not about playing the cards-"

"It's about playing the other guy. I know that," Once again Sam butted in.

"Well, hooray for you. All I'm saying is, I played this guy. I know his style. I can take him," Sam wasn't impressed at this moment, as he placed his giant hands on his perfect waist, and turned his body away.

"No, Bobby. You don't have enough years in the bank," Dean interjects, reminding him he isn't young.

"I got enough," he defended, not seeming to care what happened to him.

"No, you'll die if you lose, Bobby," Sam was concerned for his friend.

"So what if I do, huh?" Bobby finally snapped, raising his voice to Sam. "What exactly am I living for, huh?! The damn Apocalypse?! Watching men die bloody while I sit in this chair, can't take a step to help 'em?"

"Bobby,"

"No, no, it's the facts," Bobby stopped Dean from saying what he had to say. "I'm old, and broke down. And I can't-'' His voice breaks, as he was getting emotional. He took a few deep breaths, and held back the tears, not wanting to cry in front of us. "I ain't a Hunter no more. I'm useless and if I wasn't such a coward, I'd have stuck a gun in my mouth the day I got home from the hospital," God we were really going deep today. But something about Bobby telling us this, made me feel a certain way. However, the air was silent between us all, and I didn't want to make remarks, not at a time like this.

"Bobby, you are not playing again. I'm not... Letting you do that," Sam was calm, but he held a stern tone in his voice, though it was only low. "There's another way out of this. There's got to be. And I'm gonna find it," Sam was determined, I know that look in his eyes. Bobby didn't want to connect his eyes to Sam or Dean. But Sam turns his head to Dean, and without a word; heads to the Impala. I turned on the spot and headed to Sam, as he opened the door of the Impala.

"Sam," I spoke his name gently, as we were treading on eggshells at the moment due to Bobby. He turned on the spot, but held the door open still. "Win," it was like I read his mind - but I didn't. His eyes lit up, for a moment, before he nodded his head. He climbs into the car, as I could hear Bobby rolling away, Dean pushing him.

I chased after them, but they were already at their hotel room door. Dean inserted the key, and unlocked it, pushing it open for Bobby to roll on in. We all entered, but my eyes landed on the woman from last night. Patrick's girl.

"Take it. It'll help you," she raised the piece of paper in her right hand as she was currently sitting on the edge of the bed. Bobby rolled on over, and took the paper in his grasp, and looked it over. While I came over, and looked over his shoulder. Reading off the ingredients.

"What is this?" Bobby asks, lifting his eyes from the paper.

"It's a reversal spell," I added, my eyes locking with hers as she nodded softly.

"The most powerful reversal spell you've ever laid your eyes on," she wanted us to know that it was a very powerful spell.

"And it reverses what?" Dean asks.

"Patrick's work -- all of it," she came straight out with it.

"You -- You saying I could be normal again?" Dean peeked up, as he really wanted to revert back to his own age.

"You and everyone else he's ever played. Who's still alive," it wouldn't work on people who had lost and are already dead.

"Why the hell should we trust you?" Dean leans back on the wall, and crosses his arms over himself, keeping an close eye on the woman.

"Trust me, don't trust me. I don't care. The spell is real," she responded as she lifted herself up from the bed, and began to walk towards the door.

"If it zaps everyone, don't that include your man?" Bobby questioned, making her stop before she got a chance to go past Dean.

"And me, too. I look good for my age," she was possibly centuries old.

"Lady, this don't add up for squat. Why would you want that?" Bobby questioned.

"I have my reasons," she states, touching the silver locket around her neck. "Do it quickly. We leave town tomorrow," she cast her eyes between us all, before walking past Dean and out of the door. Once she was out of sight, I grabbed hold of the spell, and read it over again. It was legit, that was for sure.

"It's real," I announced to the group. "Get Sam on the phone now," I demanded, but Dean did what I asked, because this could turn the tide for us all.

.........................

Bobby and Dean went to get the ingredient of 'Jaw of a Murderer' as I collected all the other things. I had them in my Witch stash. Living as long as I have, you tend to get some stash away for any witchy occasion. Luckily, I had all I needed. I shoved the ingredients into my duffel bag, and once the last ingredient in, I zipped it up tight, and slung it over my shoulders. I flung my hand up, and the black smoke came back and sent me on my way.

I reformed inside the back of Bobby's van, which was parked in an alleyway where we were supposed to meet Sam. I see Bobby nod to me, meaning he and Dean gathered the jaw. I shrugged the duffel bag from my shoulder, and peered outside the drivers side wide to see Dean speaking to Sam. The main part of the spell was that we needed the DNA of Patrick, and Sam already in with him could get it. They had a brief interaction, and I see the toothpick that Sam hands over to Dean. I waved my hand out behind me, and the black smoke covered the whole back of the van, and once it vanished seconds later. We were set up ready to perform the reversal spell. I opened the back doors of the van, and floated everything out with magic.

I jumped down to the ground, and stood before the small table. The jaw sat in the center of the bowel, as the other ingredients were also sat in there. I noticed Dean come on over, toothpick in hand, his eyes on me.

"You ready?" He questioned, and I reached into my leather jacket, and pulled free the piece of paper Patrick's girl gave us.

"Remember what I told you to do?" I asked with a raised eyebrow, before he gave me a swift nod. "Ok, let us begin," I smirked to myself, as this maybe was the first time I was performing Witchcraft in front of one of the Winchesters, and Bobby of course. I used my right hand, holding it up and swirled it in a circle motion. Out of the blue, fire sprouted out of thin air, but I threw it into the bowel, allowing the jaw to catch on fire as well as the other ingredients. I raised the piece of paper to eye level, ready to read.

"Gairmidh mi air maponus, dia na hogalachd. Gairmidh mi air sucellus, dia na time," I spoke the incantation correctly. Dean saw his que, and threw a handful of powder into the bowel. It erupts smoke, drowning out the orange flame, and changing it to a blue. "Till an-drasda obair uile gu beheilair a bhith deanta. Mar sin bitheadh," I had such a way with the incantation it just flew, and sounded right coming from my mouth.

"Drop it in," Bobby announces to Dean as he missed his cue. Dean leans over with the toothpick and gently drops it into the blue of the flame. Once it hits, it instantly disintegrates. I raised my eyes from the flames, to see Dean still old and wrinkly.

"Well? How do I look?" Dean asks with a smile, thinking he was reverted back to his age.

"Old and wrinkly, Grandpa," I remarked, as the blue of the flame died down, and the spell was over, but there was more and we could do it again with the speck of DNA. All of us packed up, and rolled on out - no pun intended; well maybe. Bobby drove as fast as he could, as Dean suggested the hotel room.

"Everything we put in that spell was kosher," he announces, as he had to double check my work as if I wasn't a talented Witch.

"Yeah, everything except the damn toothpick," Dean replied with a grumble. Clearly pissed.

"You got to go get a speck of DNA. Strap on your track shoes,"

"Oh, goody. More stairs," he remarks, clearly he wasn't in any condition to be climbing stairs. But he had too. Bobby kept on driving, and we reached the apartments in no time. Dean and I climbed out of the van, as Bobby called Dean on his cell so we could all talk. As we walked towards the glass doors, my left hand flew out to them, and swung open with a force, and we walked straight in. With my left hand still raised, I swiped it to the left, and the elevator dinged and opened its doors for us. We entered with a word, and Dean pressed the floor we needed. We rode the elevator in silence, but I could tell he was impressed.

Within a minute, the elevator dinged open, and the doors slid across. Dean directed us to the door, and began to get down on one knee, ready to lockpick it. But if he got down, he would never get back up. I waved my hand over the door handle, and an unlocking sound came to my ear, and the door opened. We entered, Dean went one way, as I went another, hoping to find something.

"It's too damn clean in here. First witch I ever heard of didn't spew bodily fluids all over the place," Dean remarks, finding in the past the witches he met were not too kind to hygiene. I searched high and low, hoping to find anything. But nothing. I came back to the kitchen, and spotted Dean spotting a glass on the side, with some lip marks. Dean heads over to the counter, but stops mid-way before he slumps to the floor, groaning.

"Dean!" I state alert of his current predicament. I rushed over, but each step I took, the air around me became thinner. I began to breathe heavily, finding that no oxygen was getting through. Patrick's own work. I collapsed to my knees, beside Dean and began to see black dots dance around my vision. I fell back, no longer breathing, and the darkness in the corner of my eyes began to edge closer to the center . Then darkness...

However, it didn't last long. I shot up, gasping for air. I slowly inhaled oxygen, finding the rhyme coming back. To the left of me Dean was sat up, his features returned back to normal, his eyes casting to me. I saw a hint of worry in them, but soon vanished when he saw me alive.

"Welcome back handsome," I teased him, but he just smiled, relieved to be back to his old self. Something inside of me felt actually good about helping. Maybe if the spell was successful, and actually worked. But I take this as a win.

.......................

The next morning arrived, I sat at the edge of the bed, a leg crossed over the other. Sam was retelling his story on how he beat Patrick without cheating, or any tricks.

"No tricks -- you actually beat the guy?" Bobby was in disbelief. Sam just raised his arms apart, and shrugged, offering a small smile. "How the hell?" His smile turned into a smirk finding dumbfounding Bobby was good.

"Just luck," he replies, bending slightly down to shove it in Bobby's fast. He passes him and heads to the open door, which Dean was about to walk through. "Hey. I'll see y'all guys later," Sam grabs his coat.

"Where you going?" Dean stops in his tracks and turns to face Sam, and Dean being back to himself it wouldn't be complete without a cheese burger.

"Uh," his eyes cocked between us all, pulling a face, as he didn't want to say. "Mm, nowhere," he was trying to play it cool, but I see Dean's eyes dart to Sam's private area. Before raising his sights back up to meet Sam's gaze. "A booster shot. Don't say it." Sam raised his index finger to Dean, because he got clap from a He-Witch.

"You know I know a potion that could clear it right up," I announced to the group, flicking my leg out and standing on my feet. Sam's head twisted to me, as if he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. "If you fancy drinking goblin piss," I smirked, biting my bottom lip from laughing. Sam didn't find it funny, and left, but I was hot on his tail, wanting to make fun of him some more. I exited the motel room, and turned the same way seeing him a bit further up.

"Sam, wait," my tone was serious, and he slowed and caught up in seconds. "What you did last night. It was brave," we walked side by side, his gaze casting to me for a moment. "You helped your brother out, and me too. And... I'm grateful," I couldn't believe the words coming from my mouth right now. But it was the truth.

"You're welcome," Sam spoke, his gaze darting back and forth to make sure he wouldn't bump into anyone. "Really I should be thanking you. For trying with the spell, trying to save Dean," I stopped in my tracks, kinda shocked to hear such a thing, but it also made Sam stop in his tracks too.

"Thank you?" I wasn't too sure if it was actually a genuine comment. Sam just chuckles to himself, which I found adorable. "Here," I closed the gap between us, reaching up and cupping his cheeks, and pulled him in. Planting a kiss upon his soft lips. He was surely stunned, and the kiss lasted a few seconds. However, he didn't pull away. I pulled back, our lips disconnecting, but his eyes wide in shock. "Don't need that booster now," I offered a smile, and recomposed myself a few steps back.

"Ri-Right. Ok," he stumbled the words out. "Yo-You sure?" He questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"Like Dean's once dried up junk," I remarked, making Sam pull a disgusting but playful expression, not wanting to think about that. "See you around Sam," I gave a firm nod, and spun on my heels, and began to walk away. Feeling his eyes never leaving me.

The things Patrick said weighed heavily on me. The Dark Witch of Salem was my past. I cursed an entire town because of what happened to my Mother. I couldn't let it go. Most of all. It felt good...

***********