[AU] two worlds, a lot of demons, and a new set of problems

[gavemea_45]

It's still hard to believe it's over; that the yellow-eyed demonic bastard they'd spent their whole lives hunting is finally dead.

Sam figures it'll sink in eventually. Given everything else -- right now he's still pretty numb.

He's also desperately tired, but that doesn't matter. There's something he needs to do, and he can't afford to delay.

He waits until they've settled in for the night, and then waits still longer. Once Dean's been asleep for half an hour, Sam picks up his messenger bag -- already stuffed with books and his computer -- and heads straight for the bar.

He orders black coffee and snags a table with a good view of both doors and the stairs, then pulls out the first of the old texts and starts to search through it.

There's work to do.

Comments

[gavemea_45]

"Oh my god, she's just like you," Dean mutters, after a long second or two to absorb that. "If you were a girl, that is."

Sam gives Dean a flat stare and turns back to Waverly with real interest. "That is cool," he assures her. "What kind of supernatural properties? Protection, I guess, to start?"

[totalitarstupetballs]

"Well, it varies," she says, addressing Sam after giving Dean a small, bemused frown. "Protection, yeah, but supposedly it also strengthens your connections to ancestors and helps provide spiritual clarity and good luck. There are some accounts of people using ammolite to connect with past lives, through meditation."

[gavemea_45]

Dean rolls his eyes but stays silent, listening, as Sam presses, "And your place is built on it? What does it do to the revenants, act as a barrier, have some other effect or what?"

[totalitarstupetballs]

"They literally can't even step on the land," she says. "It's like there's an invisible wall. When we got rid of the talisman that had let them onto the land before, one of them just got flung off the property like someone had him in a slingshot."

[gavemea_45]

Dean snorts. "I'd love to see that."

"Me too," Sam agrees. "Just revenants? Not demons?"

[totalitarstupetballs]

"Yeah," Waverly says, a laugh in her voice. "It was hilarious."

She shakes her head at Sam. "That, I don't know. I only know for sure about the revenants."

[gavemea_45]

"What about other haunts or ghosts? Any idea?" Dean asks. Sam grins ruefully at Waverly. "I hope it's okay that we're picking your brain like this, but in turn I promise you can ask us anything you want to know about how things work where we're from. Maybe we'll find stuff that can help."

[totalitarstupetballs]

Waverly crosses her arms and gestures with one hand. "It's fine, but I don't see what it has to do with the problem at hand," she points out, tipping her head toward the skull. "Can we maybe focus on my dead friend, first?"

[gavemea_45]

"It depends a little on what kind of supernatural resonance Yorick's exhibiting," Sam explains. "So, like, if it's something that could be affected by this ammolite, then there might not be bones on the homestead. It narrows down the search area."

"Could just cart him out there and find out if he gets to play slingshot," Dean points out.

[totalitarstupetballs]

"Hilarious as that would be, why don't we try asking the only other person who might know?"

She goes back to the table and lifts the note from Uncle Curtis, then waves it at them. "The Blacksmith?"

[gavemea_45]

Sam eyes her. "I still say you shouldn't go alone."

Dean eyes Sam, in turn. "Why not?"

[totalitarstupetballs]

"Well, you can come," she points out, then gives them both a considering glance. "But you might need coats."

In the weeks since Wynonna returned, the tail end of summer had given way to winter, and there's snow on the ground and frost on the windows. "It's pretty cold out there."

[gavemea_45]

"Right," Dean drawls. "Canadian."

"How far away is it?" Sam asks.

[totalitarstupetballs]

"Too far to walk."

She glances at the stairs that lead up to the second floor, thoughtful. "But if you don't want to go back for coats, I might be able to scrounge something up for you."

[gavemea_45]

Dean shrugs. “We’re not fussy. I’ll be impressed if you have something that fits Sasquatch here, though.”

[totalitarstupetballs]

"Just give me one minute," Waverly says, holding up a finger, before she turns and scurries up the stairs towards the second floor.

[gavemea_45]

Sam braces as Dean rounds on him. “Seventy-seven revenants? And you were going to come alone? What the hell, Sam?!”

“We’re not looking for them, just the blacksmith,” he argues. “Who's a witch, but not the big problem witch. It’s fine.”

[totalitarstupetballs]

Waverly's steps can be heard moving across the upper floor as she searches through first Champ's room and then the rooms where Shorty would stay on the occasional very late nights turned early mornings. A few moments later, she comes trotting back downstairs with her hands full of a couple barn coats and scarves. Champ's she tosses at Dean; she holds Shorty's up to Sam with a considering glance, then hands it over.

"It might be a little short, but it should fit everywhere else."

[gavemea_45]

“We’re gonna be talking about this later,” Dean promises him, and catches the coat. “Thanks.”

Sam gives his brother an expressive look, then turns to Waverly with a smile. “It’s great. Thanks.”

[totalitarstupetballs]

Waverly glances back and forth between them. "Talking about what?"

[gavemea_45]

“Dean’s just grouchy when he gets woken up,” Sam says, with a wry smile. “He likes to complain.”

[totalitarstupetballs]

"Boy, he really is like Wynonna, isn't he?"

Waverly grins a wrinkled-nose little sister smile at Dean, then bustles over to pack the skull back into the box in which she'd found it. After another moment's thought, she heads behind the bar and grabs a bottle of white wine. "Maybe this will soften her up."

[gavemea_45]

“He sure is,” Sam agrees.

Dean kicks Sam in the ankle and otherwise chooses to ignore that. “I’d bring a bottle of Jack, but it’s your call.”

[totalitarstupetballs]

"To be honest, I'm hoping she won't want it and I can drink it," Waverly admits. She sets the wine down by the box and tugs on her own coat and scarf and hat, then picks up the items again and takes a deep breath before she tips her head toward the door. "Okay. Let's go see the Blacksmith.'

[gavemea_45]

“Does she have a name?” Sam gets the door for her, while Dean brings up the rear of their little group.