Into Darkness (Supernatural)

~VIII~ - Tracking the Witch

~VIII~ – Tracking the Witch

"You really got no place to be?" asks Dean as we sit in his car, scouting out the Wallace house. I've been sitting in this contraption since he pulled up to this street. He'd talked to Mrs. Wallace, but he had no luck. So apparently when you fail, you stalk the house.

I don't understand humans.

Between us are a bunch of unwrapped, some still wrapped, sweets. My nose wrinkles at the smell, and I look at Dean in disgust as he just scarfs the morsels down.

"No demons to slay?"

"Right now, aiding you and your brother to stop Samhain is more important," I tell him. "You two won't be able to handle him alone."

"We've handled some pretty powerful hitters and managed them just fine."

"By 'just fine' you mean nearly dying." I raise a brow.

Dean just glares at me. I jump as loud music starts in the car. Dean picks up his phone and checks who's calling before he answers. "Hey."

"How's it going?" It's Sam's voice on the other end. I lean in, inspecting the phone. Dean shoos me away, giving me an odd stare.

"Awesome, yeah, I talked with Mrs. Razor Blade again. I've been sitting out in front of her house for hours and I've got a big steamy pile of nothing."

"Look, Dean, someone planted those hex bags, someone with access to both houses. There's gotta be some connection."

"Yeah, well I hope we find 'em soon cause I'm starting to cramp like a—" Dean abruptly stops talking, and I don't understand why until I notice the blonde girl walking up to the Wallace house. "Son of a bitch."

"Quit whining."

"No, Sam, I mean, son of a bitch."

"What does that translate to in Dean Winchester language?" I ask.

"Means we've got the witch we're looking for."

"Tracy?" I remember her from the Halloween party that ended horribly. She'd been so distraught over the dead. "You think she's the witch?"

"Head back guys."

"On our way," says Dean, who ends the call. I start as the car roars to life. Dean smirks at my jumpiness. "Don't try and zap us back to the motel room."

"Believe me, I have no strength for that. There is a limitation on my powers."

The drive back to the motel room takes forever, which makes me wish I had teleported myself and Dean back. I'm more than happy to leave the contraption behind as we get back to Sam in the motel room.

"So, our apple-bobbing cheerleader?" Sam greets us, referring to Dean's recent discovery.

"Tracy?"

"Mhm."

"The Wallaces' babysitter. Told me she never even heard of Luke Wallace."

"Huh, interesting look for a centuries-old witch."

"Yeah, well, if you were a six-hundred-year-old hag and you could pick any costume to come back in, wouldn't you go for a hot cheerleader? I would, hmm..."