My Little Girl

Chapter 17

We were at Paul and Janet Dutton's house questioning Paul about his wife's death. Sam walks into the bathroom while Dean talks to Paul with me standing beside him, itching to look around the bedroom but knowing I can't to keep the guise of the CDC Agent's daughter. 

"She was so scared. I couldn't help; I couldn't do anything to stop it. And I've talked to the police, and I've talked to the medical examiner and no one can explain it." Paul tells Dean, clearly heartbroken. 

"Well, that's why they put the call in to us Mr. Dutton." Dean tells the distraught man. I start to slip away from the two to look around the room but Dean's hand on my wrist stops me. I huff and pull my arm from his grasp, walking into the bathroom to help Sam just as Paul asks what the CDC is doing here. I close the door behind me when I walk in, muffling the sound of Dean and Paul's voices and catching Sam's attention.

"I thought you were supposed to stay with Dean and not do anything." He says, turning bak around to continue his search of the bathroom. I shrug and start looking around as well, walking over to the sink and opening the cabinets. 

"I got bored." I tell him, crouching in front of the sink. I move some things around under the sink, still not seeing anything suspicious. I'm about to stand up when something catches my eyes. "I think I got something." I tell him. He stops his search and turns to me. 

"What is it?" He asks. I roll my eyes and slowly turn to face him. 

"If I knew, don't you think I would tell you?" I ask grumpily. I puts his hands up in mock surrender and I turn back to the sink. I reach further into the cabinet and grip the small cloth bag, pulling out of its hiding spot. I stand up and show Sam my finding. I shove the item in my pocket and walk across the bathroom to open the door. 

"Mr. Dutton?" Dean asks, clearly starting to lose patience with the man. 

"Uh, everyone loved Janet." Paul tells him unconvincingly. Dean looks over the man's shoulder and I nod so he knows we're done investigating.

"Okay. Thank you very much; I think we've got everything we need. We'll get out of your way now." Dean tells Paul, the three of us leaving. We walk out of the house and into the rain on the way to the Impala. 

"That dude seem a little evasive to you?" Dean asks us. I shrug.

"I don't know I was under a sink, pulling this out." I say, taking the hex bag out of my pocket and handing it to him. We stop walking and Dean opens it, revealing the contents. "Sam was being useless. He was too busy admiring his hair." I add, receiving a bitch face from Sam. "It's a hex bag." Dean's face morphs from confusion to disgust and I laugh. 

"Awww gross." He says. 

"Wimp." I tell him.

"Yeah, there are bird bones, rabbit's teeth." Sam informs us, ignoring my comment. "This cloth is probably cut from something Janet Dutton owned." Dean looks back at the house for a second and turns back, handing the bag to Sam and continuing the walk to the Impala.

"So we're thinking witch?" He asks.

"Uh, yeah, and not some new age wicked water douser either. This is Old World black magic Dean, I mean, warts and all." Sam says. We get to the Impala and slide into our respective seats. 

"I hate witches." Dean tells us. Sam chuckles and I stare out the window, watching the rain trickle down the glass, tuning out the conversation. 

"Sky?" Dean asks, snapping me out of my trance. I look in his direction to see him turned around in his seat, looking at me. "You good?" I nod. 

"Yeah. Just tired." I tell him. It's true. I've been tired a lot lately as a side effect of my medication. "So what are we thinking, we're uh, looking for some old craggy Blair bitch in the woods."