As It Was - Dean Winchester

Part 61

I took a deep breath as we walked into the Christmas shop and was immediately hit with a whiff of childhood. I blinked, stunned by the Christmas memories that flooded me. 

"You okay?" Dean questioned, coming in behind me. 

"Yeah," I said, walking up to the checkout where the shopkeeper stood, followed by both brothers. 

"Help you, guys?" The older man behind the disk asked. 

"Uh, hope so," Dean answered. "Uh, we were playing Jenga over at the Walshes' the other night, and, uh... well, she hasn't shut up since about this Christmas wreath, and I don't know, you tell him." He patted my back, gently guiding me forward. 

I pressed my lips into a line, forcing a smile. "Yes. It was... to die for." 

Sam nudged my side in a silent warning to stop grimacing, but the shopkeeper kept his face blank, looking between us. "I sell a lot of wreaths, guys."

"I understand that," I said through my teeth. Of course, I did. It was a Christmas shop. "This one especially caught my eye, though. It had this beautiful green leaves and white buds. I think it was meadowsweet in it too, right babe?" I looked back to Dean as if seeking confirmation. I didn't allow him to confirm or deny before turning back to the shopkeeper, eyeing his reaction and reading his body language at the mention of the herb. And; nothing. 

"Well, aren't you a fussy one?" he remarked, making my blood boil. 

I smiled sweetly at him, hiding my clenched fists under the disk.

"If you only knew," Dean agreed with a bright smile, noting my anger and deciding to pour gasoline on it. My lip twitched in annoyance. 

Sammy put a hand on my shoulder as if holding me back, but instead, it had a calming effect. I took a deep breath and forced another smile. 

The shopkeeper sighed. "Anyway, I know the one you're talking about. I'm all out."

Dean made a noise of understanding. "Huh. Seems like this meadowsweet stuff's pretty rare and expensive. Why make wreaths out of it?"

"Beats me," the man shrugged. "I didn't make them."

"No?" I questioned. "Then who did?"

"Madge Carrigan, a local lady. She said the wreaths were so special, she gave them to me for free," he explained. I shared a silent look with the boys.

"She didn't charge you?" Sam pressed.

"Nope."

"Did you sell them for free?" the older Winchester asked.

"Hell no," the shopkeeper exclaimed. "It's Christmas. People pay a buttload for this crap."

"That's the spirit."

I turned my attention to the man behind the disk, narrowing my eyes at him. "I really want that wreath. You wouldn't happen to have Madge Carrigan's address, do you?"

"See, fussy," Dean smirked.

---

It was already dark by the time we all got back to the motel room, so we decided to wait until morning before we visited Madge Carrigan. 

"How much do you think a meadowsweet wreath would cost?" Dean asked as he turned on the lights, stepping inside.

"A couple hundred dollars, at least," Sam guessed.

"It can't be a coincidence that she's giving them away for free," I said, shaking my head and pulling out my laptop to do some more research about how to kill the pagan god we were looking for.