Blood Ties: The Winchester Legacy

Chapter Twenty-Two - How To Make Death Your Bitch: A Step By Step Guide

    "Ughhh. Are we there yet?" I ask, incredibly bored.

    "Almost. We're about twenty minutes away." Sam, who's sitting next to me in the backseat, says.

I sigh loudly.

    "You didn't have to come along, you know." Dean says, looking at me in the rearview mirror, obviously done with my BS.

    "Yes, I did. 'Cause I need to keep both of you in check. Make sure you don't do anything stupid. Bobby can only do so much." I say, looking at Bobby who grins.

Finally, we arrive about twenty minutes later, just like Sam said and we grab our bags and flashlights before walking up to the back of this million-dollar mansion. Bobby begins working on disabling the security system while Sam holds the light for him.

    "Hey!" A voice makes me jump and we all turn around to see who I presume to be the groundskeeper standing in front of us, pointing a flashlight at our eyes.

"Excuse me, you got any Grey Poupon?" Dean asks, walking up from behind the man and smacking the butt of the gun in this guy's face as soon as he turns around to look at him, knocking him out.

    "Grey Poupon? Seriously?" Sam asks.

    "It's what popped in my head." He shrugs.

    "The hell is Grey Poupon?" I ask.

    "It's a brand of mustard." Sam says, holding up the light for Bobby again.

    "Oh. Gross." I reply with a disgusted expression.

    "Got it." Bobby says finally.

We walk into the house into the back entryway and we split up. Sam and Bobby go left, Dean and I go right. We walk into a living-room-museum-thingy. Everything is dark stained hardwood and there's collectibles everywhere. Vintage glassware, statues everywhere, a ton of crap in glass display cases, leather armchairs, and in the corner, is a silver suit of armor.

I walk up to it and shine my light on it. The hands of the suit are holding a sword in front of it and everything.

    "Dude. This is so awesome." I grin.

    "Harley, I found it." Dean says pointing to one of the display cases.

And sure enough, inside, is a really long, wonky crystal thingy.

    "That's it?" I ask, unimpressed.

    "I guess so." Dean says.

     "Well, that was very anticlimactic. I was expecting it to look... I don't know. More like it just came out of Lord of the Rings." I shrug.

    "Yeah, you and me both." Dean says, grabbing the top of the glass case to lift it up, but before he even has a chance to move it, the sound of a gun cocking stops us in our tracks.

We turn around to see an older man and woman in their pajamas standing there, staring at us while the man points his shotgun at us.

    Crap.

Dean and I both reluctantly put our hands up and Dean speaks.

    "Hi." He says with a grin. "Uh, I don't want to hurt you. Really."

The man scoffs.

    "I'm the one with the firearm, son."

    "You may have a firearm, but you're not the only one." I grin, pulling back my red and black flannel to show my gun in the holster in the waistband of my jeans. "Listen, Gramps. All we want is the crystal, and then we're gone. Nobody needs to get hurt." I say, gesturing to the display case.