~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.

"Oh, right, like that makes it better? Witches, they're so friggin' skeevy." Dean moves to the chair next to the couch and sits.

"Yeah, well it takes a pretty powerful one to put a bag like this together. More juice than we've ever dealt with, that's for sure. What about you? Find anything on the victim?"

"This Luke Wallace? He was so vanilla that he made vanilla seem spicy."

"I...I don't understand what that means," I say, tilting my head in bewilderment.

"I can't find any reason why somebody would want this guy dead."

"There's always a reason," I say.

"Oh, then what's your reasoning there, Nancy Drew?"

"I never said I found out, I'm saying that there most likely is one and we just haven't figured it out yet."

"Did I just hear 'we' come out of your mouth?"

"Well, your brother did ask me to help."

"Look, demons are your thing, everything else is ours."

"A little defensive aren't we, Dean?" I raise an eyebrow.

"Guys, come on," Sam groans. "I didn't call Vera here for you two to rip each other's throats out. She's here to help. She might have advantages that we don't."

"Like what?" asks Dean.

"The ability to feel magic in the air, compared to you two," I say firmly.

"So we need a personal magic tracker?"

"Sam thinks so, apparently."

* * *

We find ourselves at another crime scene later in the night. A Halloween party has ended in disaster with another person dead. I still don't understand why humans celebrate this "holiday", especially when actual dead bodies pop up.

Now, we're back where we started, in the motel room.

"I'm telling you, both these vics are squeaky clean," Dean says, stuck on the computer at the table (I finally asked what the device was when we got back). "There is no reason for a wicked bitch payback."

"Maybe it's not about that," I say slowly. Ever since the second victim, I've been mulling over motives in my brain. Since, like Dean says, there's no motive to kill the two victims, then it's clearly something on the witch's behalf.

"Wow, insightful."

"I think Vera's right," Sam agrees. "Maybe this witch isn't working the grudge, maybe they're working on a spell. Check this out. Three blood sacrifices over three days, the last before midnight on the final day of the final harvest. Celtic Calendar, the final day of the final harvest is October thirty-first." He hands the book over to Dean.

"Halloween."

"Exactly."

"What exactly are the, uh, blood sacrifices for?"

The idea goes off in my head like a blinding light. "The witch is summoning a demon, and not just any demon—Samhain."

"What, do you have a supernatural encyclopedia in your brain that you randomly access?"

I scowl. "Jealous that you didn't come to the conclusion first?"

"Am I supposed to be impressed?"

"Dean, Samhain is the damn origin of Halloween," says Sam. "The Celtics believe that October thirty-first was the one night of the year when the veil was the thinnest between the living and the dead, and it was Samhain's night. I mean, masks were put on to hide from him, sweets left on doorsteps to appease him, faces carved into pumpkins to worship him. He was exorcised centuries ago."

"So even though Samhain took a trip downstairs, the tradition stuck."

"Exactly, only now instead of demons and blood orgies Halloween is all about kids, candy, and costumes."

"Well, I don't believe humans would accept Halloween's true origin in this lifetime," I muse. "Most don't believe what you hunt exists, except for probably the skeptics, and the very open-minded."

"Okay, so some witch wants to raise Samhain and take back the night?" asks Dean.

I frown. "This is a serious issue, Dean. This is talking about raising a demon."

"I am serious."

"We're talking heavyweight witchcraft," says Sam. "This ritual can only be performed every six hundred years."

"And the six hundred year marker rolls around...?"

"Tomorrow night," I say. "Good fortune for us, right?"

"It's hard to tell whether or not you're really serious or being sarcastic."

I roll my eyes. "You decide on that."

Dean leaves the computer, flipping through the book. "Well it sure is a lot of death and destruction for one demon."

"That's because he likes company," says Sam. "Once he's raised, Samhain can do some raising of his own."

"Raising what, exactly?"

"Anything you can imagine that qualifies as dark," I say gravely.

"So we're talking ghosts."

"Yes."

"Zombies."

"Yes."

"Leprechauns?"

I just stare at him.

"Those little dudes are scary. Small hands."

"Look, it just starts with ghosts and ghouls." Sam butts in. "This sucker keeps on going, by night's end we're talking every awful thing we have ever seen. Everything we fight, all in one place."

"It's going to be a slaughterhouse," I say. "So, it looks like you will need my help on this after all."

"Okay, so, what do we do now?" asks Dean.

"Well, we need to find the witch who's behind this," I say, slowly walking around the room. "There has to be a connection somehow to the victims, unless there's the chance that they aren't and the victims were randomly selected."

"Yeah, well, can we do that tomorrow?"

I look at him, mildly irritated. "You want to wait until tomorrow to find this witch instead of searching for them now?"

"Look, you can go ahead and do some digging of your own. But, unlike you, Sam and I need sleep."

"I never told either of you that angels don't sleep."

"Guess we know now. Fun fact of the night." 

**Dean's interaction with Vera <3 I sense the beginning of a brotp #Veran**