Where Do We Go From Here? ↳ Dean Winchester

Five

"Witchcraft?" I ask Dean. He nods. I look around the house as Sam and Dean talk to the wife of the man who was killed. He was eating some candy that his wife had bought for Halloween, which is tomorrow, and he choked on it. The wife said she found little needles around his dead body, bloody. There were around fifteen of them, I believe.

To be honest, I think witchcraft is terrible. I think no one deserves to die by choking on needles, but that's just my opinion.

"Did the police find any razors in the rest of the candy?" Sam asks Mrs. Wallace.

"No. I mean, I don't know. I don't think so," she replies. Dean and I look around a bit. "I just--" I don't listen to what else she is saying because Dean stops in his search and looks down at the bottom of the refrigerator. He pulls out a hex bag. I scoff and he holds it up in the air, showing it to Sam. He puts the hex bag away before Mrs. Wallace can see it.

"Mrs. Wallace, did Luke have any enemies?" I ask, moving around her to stand next to Sam.

"Enemies?" She asks, tilting her head to the side a little.

"Anyone who might've held a grudge against him?" Sam asks her.

"What do you mean?"

"Coworkers, neighbors," I say.

"Maybe a woman." Sam adds. Mrs. Wallace looks very shocked that we would say this.

"Are you suggesting an affair?" she asks, flickering her eyes back and forth between me and Sam.

"Is it possible?" Sam asks.

"No!" She says dramatically. "No, Luke would nev--"

"I'm very sorry; we just have to consider all the possibilities," I say. She points her finger at me a little.

"If someone wanted to kill my husband, don't you think they'd find a better way than a razor in a piece of candy that he might eat?"

"Depends on the person," I mumble.

-

"Really?" Sam asks Dean as Dean opens up a piece of candy and puts it in his mouth. We're in the hotel room. Sam and I were looking at the hex back and looking up some stuff about it. I'm not sure where Dean went off to, but he's back now. "After that guy choked down all those razor blades?"

"It's Halloween, man," Dean says, his mouth full of candy as he speaks.

"Yeah. For us, every day is Halloween," Sam says as Dean sits down on the other side of Sam.

"Don't be a downer. Anything interesting?"

"Well, we're on a with hunt, that's for sure, but this isn't your typical hex bag," Sam explains, sliding the piece of brown cloth over the table so it's closer to his brother.

"No?" Dean says, still eating his candy.

"Gold thread," I say. "An herb that's been extinct for 200 years." Sam lifts up the small piece of goldthread and Dean looks at it.

"And this is Celtic. And I don't mean some New-Age knockoff. It looks like the real deal, like 600-years-old real," Sam says, examining the piece of Celtic material.

Dean lifts up another material. "And that is charred metacarpal bone of a newborn baby," I say, pointing to the object in his hands. He sets it down abruptly.

"Oh. Gross."

"Relax, man," Sam says. "It's at least a hundred years old." He picks up the small piece of bone again.

"Oh, right, like that makes it better. Witches, man, so frigging skeevy," Dean says. I try to fight back a smile but it spreads across my face anyway. I wipe it away almost immediately after. He stands up, but Sam continues talking.