Part of the Family Business (A Supernatural Fanfic)

Chapter Eighteen

I lean against an altar in the corner and look over at Sam, who is now chanting. This is supposed to make her talk in a "more humane way than torture". It's true, but I was uncharacteristically looking forward to torturing her.

Dean crosses his arms and speaks to Thalia. "Why did you kill those people?"

"It was for an experiment," she spits out.

"Elaborate on that," I say, pushing myself from the altar and waltzing over to her in the middle of the room.

Thalia holds her mouth open and attempts to close it multiple times. Finally, she chokes out, "I wanted to see if my spells inflicted pain on the victims."

"Did they?" I ask casually.

"The javelin thing was a step backwards," Thalia admits regretfully.

"Sam," Dean speaks up loudly. "May I talk with you, in private?" Sam nods and walks up the stairs with him.

While they do that, I hang around and thumb through a random spellbook.

"So," I start, trying to ignite a friendly conversation, "what does it take to become a witch?"

Thalia eyes me, and I can't place a finger on why. "Dedication," she says with finality. "And a thirst for knowledge," she adds, looking to her bound feet.

I hear boots on the stairs and set the spellbook down quickly. Sam and Dean return, but Sam isn't holding the spellbook anymore - Dean is.

"What are we going to do with her?" I ask them.

Sam turns to me, explaining, "While I was looking through the spellbook, I found something." We both glance over to Thalia, who looks scared.

"I think she knows what you're talking about," I say with a smirk.

Dean starts to chant something, and she screams in protest. I sigh quietly and look at the wall. In my peripheral, I see Thalia writhing as if in pain. Suddenly, she stops and her whole body sags forward like she was drained of all energy. Then her face sags, just like her body, and her hair fades into a grey color.

"Did you make her... old?" I can't help but ask.

"No," Sam says patiently. "It was a spell that sapped the witch out of her. She must have used magic to look so young."

Dean sets down the spellbook and walks out. I decide to follow Dean while Sam unties Old Thalia.

I stand out by the car beside Dean in silence. We both stare down at the black asphalt, even blacker in the dim moonlight.

"Were you lying to me?" Dean asks softly. We look at each other.

"No," I say, and my voice cracks. I fall into Dean's open arms and cry on his shirt.

"I-I didn't," I start to say, trying to talk past my tears. "I didn't mean to," I manage to say. For a little while, I continue to cry silently into his chest. Then I lift my head and wipe my cheeks.

"I didn't know what you'd do, or say, or think," I confess. "I didn't know what Sam would do... what I would do. I just didn't know what to do, Dean," I say, on the verge of tears again.

"You know what you could've done? You could have told me the minute you knew, and we could have talked about it," Dean says. He has his hands on my arms and the warmth they radiate reminds me of how cold it is outside. Then Dean pulls me into a tight hug, and we stay like that until I hear Sam get in the car.