Witches are Evil - August 14th
Twisted Shorts August Fic-a-Day Challenge - Day 14
Title: Witches are Evil
Author: hermione2be
Rating: PG/FR13/K+
Crossover: BtVS/Supernatural
Disclaimer: I do not own any of BtVS/Angel or Supernatural people, places, or ideas. This fiction is done simply for pleasure and I receive no profit.
Summary: Willow’s impact on the job may be small, but in the moments between, she’s become a large part of their lives.
Notes: Part 9 of “A Redhead in the Impala” - Links Page
Seasons: Post-Series/Season 2
Word Count: 2675
“I’m telling you, Dean,” Sam said softly. “She did magic.”
“And it knocked her on her ass,” he pointed out.
“Yeah, but she is a witch, we can’t just bury that away and hope she never asks about it.”
“Witches are evil.”
“Witches are humans - they can’t all be evil.”
“The ones we read about are.”
“Because they make a big noise,” Sam pointed out. “Think about it, for every one witch we hear a story about, there could be a hundred good witches who never harm another person.”
“I think you’re reading too many of Willow’s fantasy books.”
“Dean…”
“Leave it.”
88888888
Willow looked at her newest charm, a gift from Bobby. All the people in her life were acting weird. Sam and Dean had been injured and refused to talk about it.
That was the week Willow learned about holy water and got her own special container of it. She was given half an explanation but just told to test them when they came back to the room.
A few days later, Sam and Dean returned telling her she wouldn’t have to worry about it ever again. They both revealed they had tattoos on the left side of their chest.
“It looks just like my charm,” she said.
“Yeah,” Sam replied. “And it means we don’t have to worry about the holy water.”
“But if we start acting strange, try the holy water, then call Bobby,” Dean told her.
She giggled. But it was mostly to overcome the serious look on Dean’s face.
What she didn’t know, what they wouldn’t tell her, was how much danger they had all been in when Sam had been possessed by the demon Meg. A possession that had led to a dead Hunter by Sam’s hand and Jo being beaten.
88888888
Sam started awake from a dead sleep. He had been stuck in a nightmare of his possession. The evil had been done by his own hands. The guilt was getting to him.
Willow was on the couch, Dean in the next bed. They were both still asleep, undisturbed. He sighed.
Earlier in the month, Willow had started to quietly talk to an imaginary friend. After verifying that it wasn't a ghost or anything dangerous, Sam had told Dean to leave her be about it. After all, at eight or nine Sam had an imaginary friend - when he started to be alone during Hunts. Willow was younger and she spent more than her fair share of time alone during jobs. An imaginary friend seemed normal.
She described a tall lady with purple wings, cherry colored eyes, and a lot of sparkly flowers. She could shrink down to Willow’s size and smaller, allowing her to easily travel with them. Mostly they seemed to read books and discuss any number of topics. Willow called her Shayla.
It was perhaps a sign of more normal childhood development. And God knew, Willow needed some things in her life to be normal.
Sam grabbed his laptop and opened the screen, giving himself something to do. A case, he needed something to focus on…
88888888
Shayla smiled as she and Willow danced around the room. The music was probably a little loud, but Willow needed to forget for a moment.
Willow giggled as glitter rained down around them. Shayla was a size just slightly bigger than Willow, but she was twirling just as quickly, her fairy wings helping her to spin.
Willow stopped the music, claiming hunger. The hotel had a little kitchenette, so Shayla assisted in making a couple of sandwiches for them to eat.
They had just finished when there was a rhythmic knock-kick-knock at the door. Willow reached up and unlocked the door, opening it to find Bobby on the other side.
“Hello, girl,” Bobby said, closing the door behind him. “What’s up?”
“Daddy and Uncle Sammy… they’re fighting a lot.”
Bobby’s eye’s widened. “They’re brothers, they do that.”
“More. And things are missing and…”
He kneeled down. “And what?”
Willow looked at Shayla, who nodded encouragingly. She focused back on Bobby. “I had a feeling.”
Bobby considered that. If Willow was even partly as powerful as they thought she could be…she may have subconsciously tapped into something. She didn’t seem scared, just confused.
“What’s going on?”
Sam and Dean - bickering - came through the door. They stopped in surprise at Bobby’s presence.
“What are you doing here?” Dean asked.
“Willow called, she had a feelin’ something was wrong,” Bobby explained.
Sam and Dean looked at her.
She looked down, shrugging.
“So tell me what’s going on,” Bobby said.
Sam and Dean told him about the case.
An hour later, Bobby gestured to stop them. “I’m surprised at you two. I really am. Sam, first off, Dean didn’t steal your computer.”
“But I-” Sam started.
“Shh! And Dean, Sam did not touch your car.”
“What?” Dean said in surprise.
“If you two had pulled your heads out of your asses, you’d know you’re dealing with a Trickster.” He looked at Willow. “Good catch, girl.”
She looked up from her book, beaming at his praise.
88888888
The Trickster, a.k.a the Archangel Gabriel, stayed invisible as he watched Willow. She danced around the hotel room like a silly child. It was one of the tenants of his existence that he didn’t hurt children where he could avoid it. His tricks were meant for those who had done harm to others, those who were drunk on their own power. Like his older brothers.
He took a big bite of a candy bar as he considered Willow. He had heard rumblings about the Winchesters for a couple of decades. He was still trying to figure out the significance, but rumor suggested his brothers were closer to their showdown than he thought.
“Kid,” Dean said, “your stuff packed?”
Willow came to a stop and nodded. “Yes, Daddy.”
He sat on the side of the bed. “Did you sense something while we've been here?”
She frowned. “No.”
“Then why did you call Bobby?”
She twisted her mouth to the side. “You say - if a thing is wrong to call you then Uncle Sammy. And then Bobby.”
“Right.”
“You and Uncle Sammy were wrong, so I called Bobby,” Willow said slowly, trying to explain what had led her to the phone call. She looked at him. “Did I do wrong?”
Dean shook his head. “No, Willow. You did good.”
She smiled.
Gabriel snorted in annoyance, his plans had been derailed by a kid. A magical kid, but still, it was insulting.
88888888
Willow picked up her cell phone on its third ring. She opened it and pressed it to her ear.
“Willow,” a familiar voice said.
“Uncle Sammy,” she greeted with a smile.
“How’s it going?”
“Good. Shayla and I are reading one of your books.”
Sam sighed. “Did you finish yours already?”
“Yes…” she said slowly.
He closed his eyes and rubbed a hand over his face. The only saving grace was that Willow gave up most of her books after she was done reading them. As far as he was aware there were only three books she refused to part with: Anne of Greens Gables, Peter Pan, and a French edition of Pippi Longstockings that she still had not managed to read. “Which book?”
“Symbols mostly.” She grunted as she closed the book and looked at the spine. “De-sif-ering Symbols.”
“Deciphering,” he corrected automatically.
Willow stared at the word a moment.
“P-h makes the f sound,” Shayla explained.
“Like phone,” she realized.
“Yeah,” Sam said. “Why didn’t you let your dad know you were running out of things to read?”
“I don’t know,” she squeaked.
“Willow?” he pressed.
“I heard Daddy complaining…” she said slowly.
Sam rolled his eyes. “About what?”
“How much I read.”
“He wasn’t…You know that your dad teases me.”
“Yes.”
“As a kid I read a lot like you do. Everything I could get my hands on. And he may bitch about everything under the sun, but do you ever think he’s unhappy with the fact that I am who I am, even when it annoys him?”
“He calls you a nerd a lot,” she noted brightly.
“Yes, he does. He just doesn’t get how we can sit down with a book and read for fun. That’s all it is. And I can promise you, he wouldn’t want you to stop reading just because he’s being a butthead.”
Willow giggled. But Sam was startled by a laugh behind him. The woman he was protecting, Madison, was watching him with a smile.
“Um, I’ve gotta go, Willow.”
“Okay.”
He snapped the phone shut and turned to the legal secretary who thought he was a detective. “Sorry,” Sam said.
Madison shook her dark head. “Don’t worry about it. I’m guessing that wasn’t your partner.”
“No, um, my niece.”
“Guessing your brother is an ass.”
“No - well, he can be. I learned to ignore his jibes as I grew up. He doesn’t realize that Willow still takes what he says at face value.”
“How old is she?”
“Six.”
“You said she ran out of things to read?”
“She loves to read, I don’t think we realized how quickly she’s been going through them.”
“Like If You Give a Mouse a Cookie and Curious George?”
“Like Tales of Despereaux and James and the Giant Peach.”
“Ah, advanced for her age.”
“She goes through a few books a week.”
“Good for her.”
Sam grinned.
“Has she tried the Harry Potter series?”
He laughed. “That’s what my brother keeps trying to get her to read.”
“Because at least there are movies so he can follow along?” she guessed.
“He won’t admit it, but yeah.”
She chuckled. “I was going to make dinner. Nothing fancy just some pasta.”
88888888
They had done it, they had killed the one who turned Madison. And she had not turned at all through the night. It was dawn, he was exhausted. It also didn’t help that Sam and Madison were making eyes at each other.
“So,” Dean said. “I’m just gonna head back to the hotel. Willow has moved on to our books-”
“Wait,” Madison said. “Willow? She’s with you guys?”
Dean raised an eyebrow, wondering how Sam had managed to bring up the kid. No wonder he doesn’t get laid, he thought. Not that Willow hasn’t put a wrinkle in my attempts…
“What of it?” he asked.
Madison walked over to one of her many bookshelves and pulled out a few textbooks. She looked at what was behind it before removing two paperbacks and setting the texts back in place. She turned to Sam. “Has she read these?”
He shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
Madison held them out to Dean.
“We couldn’t,” Sam said.
“You saved my life. A couple of books is a small price to pay.” She grinned. “Besides, you need to give her these more than I need them.”
Dean frowned, but accepted the two books. “Thanks…” He left Madison’s apartment without looking back.
88888888
“You’re back,” Willow announced in surprise.
“Yeah. We got the bad thing,” he told her. “Uncle Sammy made a friend.” Dean held out Madison’s books for her. Matilda and Harriet the Spy.
She swallowed and looked up at him.
Dean exhaled, ready to kick his own ass. He liked to pretend that this was easy. Like incorporating Willow was necessary and his role was superfluous. Unfortunately, those big green eyes looked at him, reminding him that no matter who Willow had been, no matter what she would become, in this moment she was a child. She believed she was his child. And like his own father, he’d forgotten that it meant treating her as a child, not a mini-adult.
He kneeled down. “What’s wrong?”
Willow shook her head. “Nothing.”
“You like books, kid.”
“I don’t need them,” she replied. “You have other books.”
Dean looked at the table where John’s diary, and a couple of lore books were spread out. “Those aren’t books you should be reading.”
“You do,” Willow pointed out softly.
He wondered in that moment how much of him was a direct reflection of his father, created from imitating him since he was a child. The car, the jacket, the job. Maybe that’s why he had been so annoyed with Sam, because despite the influence of John and himself, he had always been happy to be smart and bookish and a nerd.
“I’ve been an ass,” he told her.
“Uncle Sammy called you a butthead,” she said quietly.
“Well, Sammy is smarter than me. But that doesn’t mean I care about him any less, or that I would want him to stop being himself because of me.” He presented the books again. “Don’t stop reading just because I can’t appreciate it. If you love doing something, we’ll figure it out. If that means more books, we can manage more books.”
Willow took the two books. “Where did you get these?”
“Sam’s new friend. She heard you like to read and decided you should have them.”
She threw her arms around his neck. “Thank you, Daddy.”
He squeezed her back for a quick second. Then he pulled back and asked. “Before you get lost in the books again, there’s a park down the street and a diner with some good looking milkshakes.”
Willow’s eyes widened. “Yum!”
88888888
Sam and Dean returned to the hotel. It was mid-day and neither were in the best of moods or well rested. They had been mistaken. There was no cure for a werewolf - none they could find, none any other Hunters had known. Madison could not be saved.
Neither said anything as they let themselves into the hotel room. Willow was giggling, seemingly talking to the empty room. As soon as the door closed behind them, all cheer drained from her face.
“You’re hurt,” Willow said.
Sam frowned at her, the words not making much sense through the haze. He brushed past her and headed for the bathroom.
She stared after him until Dean picked her up. “He’ll be okay,” he promised softly. “But it’s going to take a little while.”
“What happened?” she whispered as she wrapped her little arms around his neck.
“Uncle Sammy’s friend died,” he told her. It felt like a lie. Madison had been a werewolf, unaware she was one. With the truth she had become someone too noble and good, she had chosen to end her life instead of risk others. The only thing she’d asked was for Sam to be the one to do it. Dean wasn’t sure what would stick with him longer, the sight of Madison dead on the floor with a hole through her heart or the look on Sam’s face after doing what she asked.
88888888
Sam didn’t sleep that night - or the next. He knew what would play in his mind’s eyes as soon as he did. They had gotten out of San Francisco, but only as far as further along the California coast.
He had confirmed that Madison had been found within hours of their leaving. He had made sure that they weren’t mentioned.
“I’m sorry you’re sad,” Willow’s voice startled him from his thoughts. He had been staring at his computer screen. Dean had gone to get something for the car. He thought Willow was reading. But she was just watching him.
“It’s…hard,” Sam found himself saying. “We didn’t know each other for very long…but I liked her.”
“A lot?”
“Yeah.”
Willow climbed off the bed and into his lap. “I’m sorry you couldn’t save your friend.”
Sam closed his eyes and tried to will the tears away again. But Willow’s tight hold and little hand rubbing his shoulder, brought everything so much closer. John’s death, Dean nearly dying, the other psychic children, how much danger they put Willow in, and Madison’s teary face as she closed her eyes and whispered ‘thank you’ before the gun fired.
Willow didn’t comment when he cried, she just laid her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arms as far around him as she could.
Title: Witches are Evil
Author: hermione2be
Rating: PG/FR13/K+
Crossover: BtVS/Supernatural
Disclaimer: I do not own any of BtVS/Angel or Supernatural people, places, or ideas. This fiction is done simply for pleasure and I receive no profit.
Summary: Willow’s impact on the job may be small, but in the moments between, she’s become a large part of their lives.
Notes: Part 9 of “A Redhead in the Impala” - Links Page
Seasons: Post-Series/Season 2
Word Count: 2675
“I’m telling you, Dean,” Sam said softly. “She did magic.”
“And it knocked her on her ass,” he pointed out.
“Yeah, but she is a witch, we can’t just bury that away and hope she never asks about it.”
“Witches are evil.”
“Witches are humans - they can’t all be evil.”
“The ones we read about are.”
“Because they make a big noise,” Sam pointed out. “Think about it, for every one witch we hear a story about, there could be a hundred good witches who never harm another person.”
“I think you’re reading too many of Willow’s fantasy books.”
“Dean…”
“Leave it.”
88888888
Willow looked at her newest charm, a gift from Bobby. All the people in her life were acting weird. Sam and Dean had been injured and refused to talk about it.
That was the week Willow learned about holy water and got her own special container of it. She was given half an explanation but just told to test them when they came back to the room.
A few days later, Sam and Dean returned telling her she wouldn’t have to worry about it ever again. They both revealed they had tattoos on the left side of their chest.
“It looks just like my charm,” she said.
“Yeah,” Sam replied. “And it means we don’t have to worry about the holy water.”
“But if we start acting strange, try the holy water, then call Bobby,” Dean told her.
She giggled. But it was mostly to overcome the serious look on Dean’s face.
What she didn’t know, what they wouldn’t tell her, was how much danger they had all been in when Sam had been possessed by the demon Meg. A possession that had led to a dead Hunter by Sam’s hand and Jo being beaten.
88888888
Sam started awake from a dead sleep. He had been stuck in a nightmare of his possession. The evil had been done by his own hands. The guilt was getting to him.
Willow was on the couch, Dean in the next bed. They were both still asleep, undisturbed. He sighed.
Earlier in the month, Willow had started to quietly talk to an imaginary friend. After verifying that it wasn't a ghost or anything dangerous, Sam had told Dean to leave her be about it. After all, at eight or nine Sam had an imaginary friend - when he started to be alone during Hunts. Willow was younger and she spent more than her fair share of time alone during jobs. An imaginary friend seemed normal.
She described a tall lady with purple wings, cherry colored eyes, and a lot of sparkly flowers. She could shrink down to Willow’s size and smaller, allowing her to easily travel with them. Mostly they seemed to read books and discuss any number of topics. Willow called her Shayla.
It was perhaps a sign of more normal childhood development. And God knew, Willow needed some things in her life to be normal.
Sam grabbed his laptop and opened the screen, giving himself something to do. A case, he needed something to focus on…
88888888
Shayla smiled as she and Willow danced around the room. The music was probably a little loud, but Willow needed to forget for a moment.
Willow giggled as glitter rained down around them. Shayla was a size just slightly bigger than Willow, but she was twirling just as quickly, her fairy wings helping her to spin.
Willow stopped the music, claiming hunger. The hotel had a little kitchenette, so Shayla assisted in making a couple of sandwiches for them to eat.
They had just finished when there was a rhythmic knock-kick-knock at the door. Willow reached up and unlocked the door, opening it to find Bobby on the other side.
“Hello, girl,” Bobby said, closing the door behind him. “What’s up?”
“Daddy and Uncle Sammy… they’re fighting a lot.”
Bobby’s eye’s widened. “They’re brothers, they do that.”
“More. And things are missing and…”
He kneeled down. “And what?”
Willow looked at Shayla, who nodded encouragingly. She focused back on Bobby. “I had a feeling.”
Bobby considered that. If Willow was even partly as powerful as they thought she could be…she may have subconsciously tapped into something. She didn’t seem scared, just confused.
“What’s going on?”
Sam and Dean - bickering - came through the door. They stopped in surprise at Bobby’s presence.
“What are you doing here?” Dean asked.
“Willow called, she had a feelin’ something was wrong,” Bobby explained.
Sam and Dean looked at her.
She looked down, shrugging.
“So tell me what’s going on,” Bobby said.
Sam and Dean told him about the case.
An hour later, Bobby gestured to stop them. “I’m surprised at you two. I really am. Sam, first off, Dean didn’t steal your computer.”
“But I-” Sam started.
“Shh! And Dean, Sam did not touch your car.”
“What?” Dean said in surprise.
“If you two had pulled your heads out of your asses, you’d know you’re dealing with a Trickster.” He looked at Willow. “Good catch, girl.”
She looked up from her book, beaming at his praise.
88888888
The Trickster, a.k.a the Archangel Gabriel, stayed invisible as he watched Willow. She danced around the hotel room like a silly child. It was one of the tenants of his existence that he didn’t hurt children where he could avoid it. His tricks were meant for those who had done harm to others, those who were drunk on their own power. Like his older brothers.
He took a big bite of a candy bar as he considered Willow. He had heard rumblings about the Winchesters for a couple of decades. He was still trying to figure out the significance, but rumor suggested his brothers were closer to their showdown than he thought.
“Kid,” Dean said, “your stuff packed?”
Willow came to a stop and nodded. “Yes, Daddy.”
He sat on the side of the bed. “Did you sense something while we've been here?”
She frowned. “No.”
“Then why did you call Bobby?”
She twisted her mouth to the side. “You say - if a thing is wrong to call you then Uncle Sammy. And then Bobby.”
“Right.”
“You and Uncle Sammy were wrong, so I called Bobby,” Willow said slowly, trying to explain what had led her to the phone call. She looked at him. “Did I do wrong?”
Dean shook his head. “No, Willow. You did good.”
She smiled.
Gabriel snorted in annoyance, his plans had been derailed by a kid. A magical kid, but still, it was insulting.
88888888
Willow picked up her cell phone on its third ring. She opened it and pressed it to her ear.
“Willow,” a familiar voice said.
“Uncle Sammy,” she greeted with a smile.
“How’s it going?”
“Good. Shayla and I are reading one of your books.”
Sam sighed. “Did you finish yours already?”
“Yes…” she said slowly.
He closed his eyes and rubbed a hand over his face. The only saving grace was that Willow gave up most of her books after she was done reading them. As far as he was aware there were only three books she refused to part with: Anne of Greens Gables, Peter Pan, and a French edition of Pippi Longstockings that she still had not managed to read. “Which book?”
“Symbols mostly.” She grunted as she closed the book and looked at the spine. “De-sif-ering Symbols.”
“Deciphering,” he corrected automatically.
Willow stared at the word a moment.
“P-h makes the f sound,” Shayla explained.
“Like phone,” she realized.
“Yeah,” Sam said. “Why didn’t you let your dad know you were running out of things to read?”
“I don’t know,” she squeaked.
“Willow?” he pressed.
“I heard Daddy complaining…” she said slowly.
Sam rolled his eyes. “About what?”
“How much I read.”
“He wasn’t…You know that your dad teases me.”
“Yes.”
“As a kid I read a lot like you do. Everything I could get my hands on. And he may bitch about everything under the sun, but do you ever think he’s unhappy with the fact that I am who I am, even when it annoys him?”
“He calls you a nerd a lot,” she noted brightly.
“Yes, he does. He just doesn’t get how we can sit down with a book and read for fun. That’s all it is. And I can promise you, he wouldn’t want you to stop reading just because he’s being a butthead.”
Willow giggled. But Sam was startled by a laugh behind him. The woman he was protecting, Madison, was watching him with a smile.
“Um, I’ve gotta go, Willow.”
“Okay.”
He snapped the phone shut and turned to the legal secretary who thought he was a detective. “Sorry,” Sam said.
Madison shook her dark head. “Don’t worry about it. I’m guessing that wasn’t your partner.”
“No, um, my niece.”
“Guessing your brother is an ass.”
“No - well, he can be. I learned to ignore his jibes as I grew up. He doesn’t realize that Willow still takes what he says at face value.”
“How old is she?”
“Six.”
“You said she ran out of things to read?”
“She loves to read, I don’t think we realized how quickly she’s been going through them.”
“Like If You Give a Mouse a Cookie and Curious George?”
“Like Tales of Despereaux and James and the Giant Peach.”
“Ah, advanced for her age.”
“She goes through a few books a week.”
“Good for her.”
Sam grinned.
“Has she tried the Harry Potter series?”
He laughed. “That’s what my brother keeps trying to get her to read.”
“Because at least there are movies so he can follow along?” she guessed.
“He won’t admit it, but yeah.”
She chuckled. “I was going to make dinner. Nothing fancy just some pasta.”
88888888
They had done it, they had killed the one who turned Madison. And she had not turned at all through the night. It was dawn, he was exhausted. It also didn’t help that Sam and Madison were making eyes at each other.
“So,” Dean said. “I’m just gonna head back to the hotel. Willow has moved on to our books-”
“Wait,” Madison said. “Willow? She’s with you guys?”
Dean raised an eyebrow, wondering how Sam had managed to bring up the kid. No wonder he doesn’t get laid, he thought. Not that Willow hasn’t put a wrinkle in my attempts…
“What of it?” he asked.
Madison walked over to one of her many bookshelves and pulled out a few textbooks. She looked at what was behind it before removing two paperbacks and setting the texts back in place. She turned to Sam. “Has she read these?”
He shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
Madison held them out to Dean.
“We couldn’t,” Sam said.
“You saved my life. A couple of books is a small price to pay.” She grinned. “Besides, you need to give her these more than I need them.”
Dean frowned, but accepted the two books. “Thanks…” He left Madison’s apartment without looking back.
88888888
“You’re back,” Willow announced in surprise.
“Yeah. We got the bad thing,” he told her. “Uncle Sammy made a friend.” Dean held out Madison’s books for her. Matilda and Harriet the Spy.
She swallowed and looked up at him.
Dean exhaled, ready to kick his own ass. He liked to pretend that this was easy. Like incorporating Willow was necessary and his role was superfluous. Unfortunately, those big green eyes looked at him, reminding him that no matter who Willow had been, no matter what she would become, in this moment she was a child. She believed she was his child. And like his own father, he’d forgotten that it meant treating her as a child, not a mini-adult.
He kneeled down. “What’s wrong?”
Willow shook her head. “Nothing.”
“You like books, kid.”
“I don’t need them,” she replied. “You have other books.”
Dean looked at the table where John’s diary, and a couple of lore books were spread out. “Those aren’t books you should be reading.”
“You do,” Willow pointed out softly.
He wondered in that moment how much of him was a direct reflection of his father, created from imitating him since he was a child. The car, the jacket, the job. Maybe that’s why he had been so annoyed with Sam, because despite the influence of John and himself, he had always been happy to be smart and bookish and a nerd.
“I’ve been an ass,” he told her.
“Uncle Sammy called you a butthead,” she said quietly.
“Well, Sammy is smarter than me. But that doesn’t mean I care about him any less, or that I would want him to stop being himself because of me.” He presented the books again. “Don’t stop reading just because I can’t appreciate it. If you love doing something, we’ll figure it out. If that means more books, we can manage more books.”
Willow took the two books. “Where did you get these?”
“Sam’s new friend. She heard you like to read and decided you should have them.”
She threw her arms around his neck. “Thank you, Daddy.”
He squeezed her back for a quick second. Then he pulled back and asked. “Before you get lost in the books again, there’s a park down the street and a diner with some good looking milkshakes.”
Willow’s eyes widened. “Yum!”
88888888
Sam and Dean returned to the hotel. It was mid-day and neither were in the best of moods or well rested. They had been mistaken. There was no cure for a werewolf - none they could find, none any other Hunters had known. Madison could not be saved.
Neither said anything as they let themselves into the hotel room. Willow was giggling, seemingly talking to the empty room. As soon as the door closed behind them, all cheer drained from her face.
“You’re hurt,” Willow said.
Sam frowned at her, the words not making much sense through the haze. He brushed past her and headed for the bathroom.
She stared after him until Dean picked her up. “He’ll be okay,” he promised softly. “But it’s going to take a little while.”
“What happened?” she whispered as she wrapped her little arms around his neck.
“Uncle Sammy’s friend died,” he told her. It felt like a lie. Madison had been a werewolf, unaware she was one. With the truth she had become someone too noble and good, she had chosen to end her life instead of risk others. The only thing she’d asked was for Sam to be the one to do it. Dean wasn’t sure what would stick with him longer, the sight of Madison dead on the floor with a hole through her heart or the look on Sam’s face after doing what she asked.
88888888
Sam didn’t sleep that night - or the next. He knew what would play in his mind’s eyes as soon as he did. They had gotten out of San Francisco, but only as far as further along the California coast.
He had confirmed that Madison had been found within hours of their leaving. He had made sure that they weren’t mentioned.
“I’m sorry you’re sad,” Willow’s voice startled him from his thoughts. He had been staring at his computer screen. Dean had gone to get something for the car. He thought Willow was reading. But she was just watching him.
“It’s…hard,” Sam found himself saying. “We didn’t know each other for very long…but I liked her.”
“A lot?”
“Yeah.”
Willow climbed off the bed and into his lap. “I’m sorry you couldn’t save your friend.”
Sam closed his eyes and tried to will the tears away again. But Willow’s tight hold and little hand rubbing his shoulder, brought everything so much closer. John’s death, Dean nearly dying, the other psychic children, how much danger they put Willow in, and Madison’s teary face as she closed her eyes and whispered ‘thank you’ before the gun fired.
Willow didn’t comment when he cried, she just laid her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arms as far around him as she could.