gavemea_45 | [AU] two worlds, a lot of demons, and a new set of problems

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

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.

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Her smile presses, small but real. "Yeah."

She pulls back up in front of Shorty's, then turns the truck off before reaching for the skull with a sigh. "Okay. Let's go find some salt."

“A lot of it.” Sam slides from the truck with Dean hard on his heels and follows Waverly inside. “Do you have a wooden box? Or a metal one?”

Edited 2023-02-03 23:53 (UTC)

"It's winter," Waverly points out. "There are bags and bags of de-icing salt in the basement."

She lets them in and closes the door behind them, then turns to Sam. "For what?"

“To put the skull in.” Sam nods at it. “It’ll hold salt better.”

"Um – " Waverly looks around, as if something in the empty saloon might suddenly reveal itself as a skull-sized box. "No. But the cardboard one should be fine for now."

“I’ll go down and get a bag,” Dean tells them. “Sam, you grab table salt and douse that thing.”

Waverly directs him to the basement door, then goes around behind the bar to dig out the box of iodized table salt. "Here, Sam."

“Thanks.” He checks the corners of the box, then starts pouring salt over and around the skull.

“Salt across all points of entry,” he explains, “and over this to stop anything it might be emanating.”

Edited 2023-02-04 13:44 (UTC)

She nods, leaning on the counter to watch. "You know, there are salt flats, way out in the Triangle," she tells him. "I could always bury it out there if I had to."

“That’d work really well, I’d think. Don’t go alone, though.”

He finishes dusting salt over the skull and gives it a critical look. “Good enough. Check it every so often if you decide to keep it.”

"I will," Waverly promises, as Dean comes back up from the basement, a bag of road salt slung over his shoulder. "Thanks, Sam. And I won't tell anyone else about it. Just Wynonna."

“Good.” He grabs a dish bin from behind the counter and takes it over to Dean. “Load me up.”

She takes a bowl, herself, and comes over. "Put it on the outside," she suggests. "It won't be so weird for me to refresh it, then, and it won't get swept up at the end of the night."

“Uh-huh. Keep an eye on the weather,” Dean advises. He and Sam split up to start covering all windows and doors.

Waverly fills her bowl with salt, then goes to the back door of the saloon, opening it onto the early winter sunshine. It's almost time for the bar to open, so they'll need to be quick. She scatters the salt in an arc around the door, then heads back inside.

"People will be showing up soon," she tells the brothers. "I should get you back."

“You’re sure you’re going to be okay here alone?” Sam asks. Every window and door he and Dean have treated is sealed with a thick double line of salt.

"I'll be okay," she promises. "I've got Wynonna. And Dolls."

She lifts a hand in a oh, right gesture. "And Doc. I'm mean, what can get past the fastest gunslinger in history, right?"

“Doc— the fastest—-“ Dean sputters and glares at Sam. “You mean Doc Holliday?”

Sam shrugs.

"He mostly goes by John Henry here," Waverly says, though her grin flashes. "You know. Keep the questions to a minimum."

“Yeah, I know,” Sam says, in response to Dean’s disbelieving stare. “I couldn’t believe it either. Apparently he’s been teaching Wynonna to shoot.”

"I promise to tell you about it later," Waverly tells Dean, with a glance at the clock on the wall. "But unless you want to help me get ready for my shift, I think it's probably time you two went back. For now."

“Oh, Sammy’s gonna answer all kinds of questions for me, aren’t you, Sammy?” Dean assures her, with a sharp glance for his brother. “Listen. Be smart. Stay behind salt. You hear me?”

"I hear you," she promises. "I'll check in at the bar tomorrow, okay?"

She looks from one brother to the other, sincere. "Thank you. Really."

“Do. Please.” Sam meets her eyes. “Take care, Waverly.”

She goes to the basement door, concentrates, and opens it onto that strange bar she'd stumbled into hours ago. "You, too, Sam," she says, and smiles, first at him and then at Dean.

"And get some rest, okay?"

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gavemea_45 - 2023-02-04 23:29 (UTC) - Expand

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