Witching Hour | Winchester

Thirty-Two

Sam had not been thrilled to hear that there was no lead on his dad. Dean had not been thrilled to not receive that call. The younger brother frowned, but as he talked to the woman miles away, his eyes still lit up with something. Something that, though he couldn't put his finger on what it was, made Dean strangely jealous.

Roxanne steps across the front doorstep of Leanne's house, thinking of that conversation. She really missed Sam. She also missed Dean more than she cared to admit. With a sense of determination, she clears her mind of everything Winchester-related.

She and Carson sweep the house once more, still coming up nearly empty. She huffs, then convinces Carson to let her sweep the upper level of the house alone. The whole house seems to be blanketed in silence as she makes her way up the stairs. The hallway is just as plain as before, and nothing seems to be out of the ordinary. She steps into the room at the end of the hall, glancing back down the empty hallway.

She stops short suddenly, her heart leaping up into her throat as she almost runs into a figure in front of her. But as soon as she tries to focus on it, it disappears.

Roxanne blinks, and without hesitation, she rushes out into the hallway. The doors to all of the rooms suddenly slam shut, and the light from the ceiling goes out as the bulb shatters. She ducks her head, throwing up her arms to protect her from the falling glass shards, when she reaches the staircase, relief floods her chest. But then she sees the shadowy figure at the bottom.

She holds her breath, and the figure turns, walking slowly toward the living room. Roxanne hurriedly descends into the hallway of the first floor. She flies around the corner, bursting into the living room. Her eyes scan the living room, but the figure is nowhere to be seen. Carson is immediately on his feet. He rushes over to her, his eyes wide.

"What is it?"

Roxanne's blue eyes meet his, then drift over to Leanne, who stands from her couch. She returns her gaze to Carson, taking a deep breath.

"I'd like to speak with you, please."

He nods, turning back to Leanne. "We'll be right back. If you need anything, shout."

The woman nods, and Roxanne escorts Carson out into the backyard. She explains her experience in a hushed tone, eyes scanning both the neighborhood around them and the house for signs of activity. When she presses her lips together, Carson frowns.

"So it didn't try to hurt you?"

"No. Just tried to rattle me. Almost like a warning."

He sighs. "But if it doesn't want to hurt you, then what does it want?"

Roxanne's eyes narrow as she stares into the window of the upstairs bedroom.

"I don't know."

- - - -

Later that night, Roxanne sits on the couch, wedged between Levi and Carson. She sets her plate on the coffee table, yawning as her stomach settles from all the pizza.

"We should watch a movie," Levi proposes.

"I dunno, guys. I'm kinda beat."

Matt tosses a look at Carson. "You're always kinda beat."

Roxanne winces. "Gotta say, I'm kinda with Carson on this one. I've got a little work to do, and I don't really have time to hang out."

Levi pouts, but she's having none of it. Her phone rings, and she slips it out of her pocket. The number isn't one she recognizes, but she flicks it open nonetheless.

"Roxanne."

The three men watch her expression change, her brow setting and her eyes hardening. She listens to the person on the other end of the line briefly, offers a bit of reassurance, then ends the call. She's on her feet in an instant, grabbing her pistol from the table and positioning it in her waistband.