#062317

Mary leaned slightly forward and narrowed her eyes at Dean, “Sorry, son, did you say something?”

 Dean’s hand stilled and his eyes rounded, “Nope, not a word.”

 “I didn’t think so.” Mary leaned back against the seat and folded her arms. She caught Sam’s eye in the rearview mirror and winked at him. Sam laughed and Dean threw him a dirty look.

 It had been early morning and Sam was behind the wheel when they passed the sign letting them know they had passed into the Nashua city limits.  Cas had called and let them he was only an hour behind them. They agreed to meet up at the Fireside Inn. It would give everyone a chance to get cleaned up and according to Dean “who in the right mind would pass up a free breakfast.” No one was in the mood to argue with him and it was only ten minutes away from the restaurant where they were meeting Wren.

 -Nashua, New York-

-Fireside Inn, Room 119-

 Dean was sitting one of the beds in their hotel room flipping through channels. He somehow managed to find a spaghetti Western and dropped the remote on the bed. “Awesome.” He put a hand behind his head and made himself comfortable on the bed.

 Sam was sitting at the table on his laptop. He looked up at the television and rolled his eyes. “Dean, are we going to talk about this before we meet with Wren?” There was a knock on the door. Sam got out of his chair and approached the door.

 Dean kept his eyes on the television, “Sammy, there’s nothing to talk about right now. Just see who’s at the door wouldja?”

 Sam turned while walking to the door, “What do you think I’m already doing?” Sam looked through the peephole and opened the door. “Hey, Cas. Glad you made it.” He moved to let the angel through the door.

 “Hello, Sam.” Cas entered the room and sat in one of the chairs at the table. “Hello, Dean.” Dean was so engrossed in the movie on the television that he merely nodded his head to acknowledge Cas and his greeting.

 Sam returned to his seat, “Sorry about him.” Sam pointed to his older brother.

 “It’s alright, Sam. Dean does not want to deal with his feelings about Wren.” Castiel stated.

 Dean shot up from the bed and pointed his finger at Cas, “Whoa, whoa, whoa. What the hell are you talking about, man?” Sam sat back in his chair and drank some of his coffee. He was curious to hear what Cas was talking about himself.

 Cas tilted his head, studying Dean before he answered.  He squinted his eyes briefly. “Dean, I am speaking to your aversion to ‘chick flick moments’. You don’t like to talk about your emotions. You have made that clear on many occasions.” Sam chuckled as Cas made air quotes with his hands.

 Dean walked over to the table and slammed one of his hands down, “You know what, Cas? How about I’m saving all my emotions for later, hmm? I’m going to talk about a whole bunch of emotions when I see her later. She is going to get an earful of emotions.” Dean looked back and forth between Sam and Castiel. “Does that answer satisfy you two?”

 Dean pushed off from the table and flopped back down on the bed. He shot a quick glare at the pair sitting at the table then returned his focus to the Western. Sam looked over at Cas and shrugged his shoulders.

 -Robin’s basement-

 Wren’s head was pounding. She went to rub the back of her head, but her arm wasn’t cooperating. She tried again and confirmed her suspicion that she was tied to the chair she was sitting on. Her vision cleared a little and she could make out hazy shapes on the walls. They looked familiar but Wren couldn’t sense of them right away. She tried again to look at the symbols on the wall she was facing. She guessed that she was still in the basement. There wasn’t anything in the room but Wren in her chair and Phoebe standing behind a table. Her brain just was not cooperating. Why had she agreed to the stupid tour of the stupid house? She should have just eaten her waffles and hightailed it out of this nuthouse.

 Phoebe looked up and noticed that Wren was awake. “Look who’s awake.” Phoebe put down a large black feather next to a bowl.

 Wren opened her mouth to tell the bitch where she could shove her sunshiney attitude but nothing came out. ‘Oh Chuck.’ Wren could not believe her luck. Of course, her brother was dating a witch.  That’s when it hit her. She shifted her gaze back to the walls. Runes, Sigils. Wards. That’s what is all over the walls and she was surrounded by them. ‘I am so screwed.’ Wren started to tug at the zip ties on her wrists again.

 Phoebe bent down so she was at eye level with Wren. “You can struggle all you want. You’re not getting out of here. We need you too much.” Wren narrowed her eyes and tried to lunge at Phoebe. All that accomplished was scooting the chair forward a couple of inches and digging the restraints deeper into her flesh. Phoebe chuckled as she stood upright again. “You know when I first came up with this idea, I don’t think there was any way I could have imagined how much I was going to enjoy it.” Phoebe was wearing that weird smile of hers again. Wren wanted to smack it right off her face and when she got free that’s exactly what she was going to do.

 Robin came jogging down the stairs. He was carrying some jars but Wren couldn’t tell what was in them. “And what are you enjoying, darling?”  He was now wearing the same look on his face that he always wore whenever Wren had been summoned into their father’s den. That look meant Robin was taking pleasure in Wren’s suffering. Wren felt her stomach drop and the sense of impending doom crept through her veins.

 Phoebe replied gleefully, “Why offering up your sister’s soul in exchange for yours. This is one of the most complicated spells I have ever done in my five hundred years so I have to generate a lot of power. I can feel it building even now. It’s tangible. I can feel it. Taste it even.” Wren could feel it too. There was a heaviness in the atmosphere of the room that hadn’t been there when she had first come down here.

 Wren tried to digest that bit of information. Phoebe was five hundred? Old witches meant a lot of power in Wren’s experience. Wren couldn’t figure out what the hell Phoebe had meant when said soul exchange. Why would they need her soul to replace Robin’s? There had been plenty of times growing up that Wren and Lark had wondered if Robin had one. She guessed this was confirmation that he did have one. It was probably shriveled and black but he still had one.

 Robin eyed Wren suspiciously, “You’re being very quiet, little sister. That’s very, very unlike you. You used to tell me off any opportunity you got.” He walked around her and tugged on the restraints checking them.

 “That’s because I put a silencing charm on her vocal chords.” Phoebe replied without even looking up from the book in front of her. She shrugged her shoulders, “If we had used a gag, she would still be able to make sounds around it. Frankly, I’m not in the mood to hear the pitiful noises that would undoubtedly come from her.” Wren narrowed her eyes at Phoebe but didn’t try to move. That would explain why Wren hadn’t heard anything when she had tried to speak earlier.

 Wren knew she needed to do something so she was conserving her energy. She couldn’t let Phoebe complete the spell. She didn’t want to lose her soul especially if it benefited Robin, the scum sucking sleazeball, somehow. Of course, that was going to be very complicated considering her current situation.

 Robin had gone upstairs once again. He returned and placed a couple of containers on the table in front of Phoebe, “That should be the last of it.” He looked around the room and his eyes landed on Wren. A malicious glint came into his eyes. “What else needs to be done?”

 Phoebe picks up a paper from the table. “Let’s check the list, shall we?” Her pointer finger moved down the page. “The wardings are done. We have the subject of transference.” Phoebe pointed at Wren. “Now this sigil need to be painted on the floor around her. It will help in bind the new deal.” Phoebe walked over to a cabinet and pulled out a small can of paint. She walked back to the table and put the can down. She began to look through the jars on the table. She made a noise of disappointment. “Robin, I need you to go up to the kitchen. You will need to bring back some basil and ground mustard. The mustard should still be on the counter from breakfast.”

 Robin recoiled, “You used mustard in the waffles?”

 Phoebe rolled her eyes, “Just in the ones that Wren ate. I wanted to ensure that she would take the house tour. Mustard aids in acceptance and control.” Phoebe began to separate what Wren assumed ingredients that were needed for the spell into two piles.

 Robin was back fairly quickly with a small jar in each hand, “What do you need the basil for?” He placed them on the table next to the paint.

 “Basil helps bindings. I’m going to mix the mustard and basil into the paint that’s going to be on the floor around her.” Phoebe put the basil and mustard into a mortar and pestle that looked to be really old. She began to grind the ingredients together. When she was satisfied with the results, she placed her hands over the mortar for a moment. She then poured the powder into the paint and stirred it together.

 Robin had been standing by silently obviously waiting until Phoebe has finished, “Is that on the walls too?”

 Phoebe shook her head, “I boosted those with vervain for enchantment. Those sigils are to keep anything, like say a demon, from interfering with my spellwork.” She crouched down onto the floor and proceeded to paint a fairly large and complicated pattern on the concrete with Wren in the middle. Robin had followed Phoebe as she moved around on the floor. He held a piece of paper that she would glance at to verify she was painting the symbol properly.

 When she had completed the symbol, Robin helped her off the floor. She rubbed her lower back, “We will need to wait for this to dry. I don’t want to chance smudging one of the lines given the complexity of this spell.” She checked the watch on her wrist. “It’s just about 11:00. Robin, what do you say we head out to lunch? The paint should be dry but the time that we return and then we can finish the spell.” Wren panicked when she heard the time. She was supposed to be meeting the Winchesters right now. They had no way of knowing what happened to her. They would probably think she blew them off or maybe even that she took off again.

 Phoebe looked at Wren with a smug look, “Wren, you be a good little girl and stay right there.”

 Robin laughed, “As if she has a choice in the matter.” Phoebe laughed as well.

 Wren watched them ascend the stairs. She heard the door close. She began to pull on the restraints.

 -Not Your Average Joe’s-

 Sam checked his watch for the third time nervously. It was after 11:30 and Wren was late. Mary and Cas were talking in hushed tones to each other. Mary would glance at Dean occasionally. Dean’s leg was bobbing up and down under the table and he had his gaze firmly fixed on the parking lot through one of the large windows.  

 The waitress approached the table for the third time, “Do you want to wait for the rest of your party or would you like to go ahead and order?”

 Sam was just about to say they would wait when Dean spoke up. “You know what? I would like to go ahead and order.” He flipped open the menu.

 Sam heard the waitress let out a big breath. He was sure she was scared that Dean would bite her head off again. She had gotten quite the earful the last time she had been at the table. Mary had scolded Dean afterwards that the poor girl was just trying to do her job.

 The waitress pulled out her notepad and pen ready to take their orders. Dean ordered the Sweet Blue Burger “hold the green crap.” Sam ordered the Waldorf Salad and Mary got the shrimp tacos. Cas had politely informed the waitress that he didn’t require sustenance. The waitress gave him an odd look, informed the group that she was going to put the order in immediately and left the table.

 The food came and Wren still wasn’t there. The check came and Wren still wasn’t there. It was almost 1:00. They left the table and went to the parking lot. Dean opened the door to get in the Impala.

 It hadn’t escaped anyone’s attention that Dean had been virtually silent the entire time in the restaurant. Sam stopped him from getting in the car, “Okay, Dean. Out with it.”

 Dean whirled around, “Out with what, Sammy? The fact that we’ve been burned by her. Again. This is it. I’m done. I had decided I was willing to give her a chance and she blew it.”

 Mary approached Dean and put a hand on his shoulder, “Dean, honey. Perhaps something came up and she couldn’t make it.” Dean looked at everyone. He closed his eyes and shook his head. He took Mary’s hand off his shoulder and got in the car.

 After the door closed, Mary looked at Sam with a look of despair on her face. She knew Dean was hurting. Sam gave her a hug, “Don’t worry, Mom. He’s just hurt right now. We’ll go back to the hotel and figure out what to do.” They all got into the Impala and Dean drove them back to the hotel.

 -Robin’s basement-

 She had pulled, pushed and twisted against her arm restraints to no effect. Her toes were just barely touching the floor so she couldn’t use her feet as leverage. However, she refused to give up. She had begun to sweat from all her efforts. The sweat did help however Wren had run out of time. Phoebe had returned to the basement before Wren could get free.

 “Well, I don’t know about you, but I feel so much better after a nice meal.” Phoebe cackled. The witch was really beginning to push all of Wren’s buttons. Phoebe went around to the table and shuffled a couple of things of around. When she seemed to be satisfied, she called out for Robin. Wren didn’t stop trying to free herself, there was no point in hiding it anymore.

 Robin came bounding into the room. His eyes were bright and shining. “Is it time, my love?” Wren thought he looked like a five year old who was just told he was going to Disney World. Wren added punching him in his smug face to the list of things she was going to do after she got free.

 Phoebe put her hands down on the table smiling. “It is, my beloved. I just need blood from you and your sister now.” Phoebe grabbed the bowl and a knife with a curved blade from the table and approached Wren. Wren tried to back away from Phoebe. Robin came behind Wren and held her shoulders. Phoebe smiled at Robin and put her hand on his cheek, “We are going to be so happy together.”

 Phoebe moved her attention back to Wren with an evil glint in her eye.. “This is going to sting.” She sliced Wren’s left cheek open. Wren tried to get out of Robin’s grasp and away from the bowl. It was futile. Phoebe moved the bowl away from Wren’s jaw having collected some of Wren’s blood. Phoebe looked at Robin, “Your turn, love. Don’t worry, I don’t need a lot. I just wanted to make her bleed.” Robin gave Phoebe his hand and she sliced his palm. Robin turned his hand and clenched his fist so a few drops of his blood with go into the bowl.

 Phoebe took the bowl back to the table. “Robin come out of the sigil. I have to pour salt around the edge to help set the spell.” Robin moved to stand next to the table as Phoebe poured a thick line of salt on the edge of the design on the floor. Finished she went back to the table. She added the ingredients she had set aside previously to the bowl and chanting.

 ff galw ar Teim i newid y eneidiau Llygoden i dwyll y deiliad cytundeb Broom i alw gweithredu ar ran fy anwylyd basil i rwymo'r fargen newydd gelyn i gydnabod y groesffordd lle mae'r fargen ei tharo lafant i gyflawni fy nod rhosmari i gynyddu fy siawns gigfran i ennill ffafr sinamon i ganolbwyntio yr egni gwaed y brawd i'w tynnu gwaed y chwaer i gymryd lle

 Wind started to blow in the basement. Wren felt a slight burning sensation in her chest. Robin must have felt the same thing since he lifted a hand to his chest. Phoebe raised her arms towards the ceiling. The wind grew stronger.

 Bydded i'r enaid y chwaer yn disodli'r enaid y brawd Bydd yn talu'r pris yn lle hynny Fy anwylyd Bydd mynd am ddim Gan bydd i fod mor brycheuyn iddo fod

 Wren’s chest felt like it was on fire. The sensation moved to her entire body. She was in pure agony. She opened her mouth to scream but thanks to Phoebe’s silencing charm nothing came out. Robin had fallen to his knees and was clutching his chest with both hands. The wind died down. Wren slumped against the chair exhausted breathing heavily. She felt like had run three marathons in a row.

 Phoebe ran to Robin and helped him off the floor. “You didn’t tell me it was going to hurt.” Robin whined.

 Phoebe frowned, “I’m sorry, darling. I didn’t want you to worry. There was nothing that I could do about it. I was making changes on the soul level. Please forgive me.”

 “I still wish you had warned me.” Robin was leaning against the table. Phoebe helped Robin to stand again and started to walk him to the stairs.

 “Come on, let’s get you upstairs into bed. You can recover up there. We’ll deal with her later.” Phoebe struggled to help Robin up the stairs. It took them a few minutes. They hadn’t even noticed that Wren had passed out.

 -Contracts Dept, Hell-

 When Percy had agreed to sell his soul all those years ago, he never dreamed he would end up doing Hell’s paperwork. He doubted that anyone had ever considered that Hell had someone deal with paperwork. Percy was sorting through the crossroads contracts that had just come in. It seemed to be just another day in the office cataloging the new contracts so they could be filed in the Soul Pending section until the soul was collected by the hellhounds. Until he noticed there was a noise coming from the archive room.

 Percy headed into the large room filled with rows and rows of shelves filled with brokered demon contracts. He followed a loud buzzing noise into the Soul Pending section. He past a couple of rows when he noticed a red glowing sigil on the end of shelf. The archives had wards placed all over them. He stopped in front of the sigil and closed his eyes. He hoped he was hallucinating. Taking a deep breath, he opened one eye. Nope, not hallucinating. This was so not good.

 He hurried down the aisle to find the scroll that had set off one of the wards. The buzzing noise was grew louder as he progressed down the aisle. He found the scroll that was glowing bright red and removed it from the shelf. Luckily, the buzzing stopped as Percy had picked it up. He turned and ran out of the room.

 Seeing a demon run down one of the hallways in Hell wasn’t a normal sight. Percy knew he had to get the scroll to the throne room immediately. In haste he may have pushed another demon or four into a wall.  He came to halt in front of the throne room doors and knocked firmly. The doors opened and a gruff order to enter came out.

 Percy walked in and the doors closed behind him. He stopped in front of the throne. “Your Majesty, we have a problem with one of the contracts.”

 Crowley rolled his eyes, “We?”

 Percy cleared his throat, “I mean we as in the contract departments, Sir.”

 Crowley was straightening the cuff of shirt. When Percy didn’t continue, Crowley raised his head and quirked an eyebrow, “And?”

 Percy stepped forward and presented the still glowing scroll to the king. Crowley reached forward and snatched the scroll from Percy’s hand. “This scroll is red. Do you know what it means when one of the contract scrolls turn red?” Crowley said in an flat tone.

 Percy nervously swallowed. “Yes, your highness.”

 Crowley looked at the demon and twirled his hand to indicate that Percy should continue, “And?”

 Percy clasped his hands together to keep them from shaking. He was aware of Crowley’s reputation and he wouldn’t allow himself to be fooled by his pseudo-calm demeanor. “Red indicates that someone has attempted to change a contract.”

 Crowley nodded his head, “Yes, very good. So, WHY DIDN’T YOU OPEN WITH THAT?” Percy flinched at Crowley’s raised voice. “Do you open it and look to see what had been changed?” Crowley pointed the scroll at Percy.

 Percy shook his head, “No, your highness. I ran here as soon as I found it on the shelf.”

 Crowley rose from his throne, “Well, I’ll give you points for that at least.” He thrust the scroll into Percy’s chest. Percy grabbed the scroll before it could hit the floor. Crowley strode past him and began to walk around the throne room. “Why don’t you open it to see what set off the alarm so to speak?”  Crowley stopped and leaned against one of the columns.

 Percy unfurled the scroll. His eyes scanned the text looking for the bright red ink that would indicate the changes. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Your highness, it seems as though has changed the name of the soul bearer and the date of collection.”  He held out the section toward Crowley for his inspection.  Crowley reached out and snatched the scroll from Percy’s hand once again.

 He started at the beginning and read the contract through. It didn’t take long. It was a rather simple contract without any special clauses or conditions. His eyes widened when he read the name now on the parchment in bright red ink. He recognized the name immediately. “Songbird?” Crowley muttered. He continued down the collection date. “Someone thinks they’re clever. However, I am better. So much better.”

 “Shall I contact the hound caretakers?” Percy asked.

 Crowley rolled the scroll back up and tucked it in the inside of his jacket. “No, no. That won’t be necessary. I need a bit of fresh air. I’ll handle this matter personally.” He straightened his jacket and eyed the demon. “Is there something else?” He asked annoyed with the demon’s presence.

 Percy blinked, “I was just wondering about ‘songbird’. I don’t remember seeing that on the scroll.”

 Crowley stopped walking toward the doors. He hadn’t realized he had said it aloud. He turned around and sighed. “You heard that, did you?” Crowley snapped his fingers and Percy exploded. “Damn, I’m going to have to get someone to clean that up now.” Crowley opened the doors and left the throne room.

 He approached a demon walking down the hall. “There’s a mess in the throne room. I want it cleaned up before I return. Is that understood?” The demon nodded her head to indicate yes and ran off towards the throne room. “Sometimes it is good tBo be the king.” Crowley smirked and continued down the hall.

Bonus A/N: I made Percy the contract dept demon in honor of Percy Weasley. I did that because after all these years I am still angry with him. It was therapeutic because I knew he was expandable and I wanted Crowley to blow a demon up because he can. Also, how much do we hate Robin and Phoebe now? 

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