Here it is! Chapter 3 of The Winchester Family Business’ Supernatural fan fiction hiatus series!
After taking a few weeks away to share real life events (i.e. Jared’s birthday tribute and San Diego Comic-Con!), let’s delve back into our summer adventure! In Chapter 1, “Every Thursday Night”, we discovered what Sam is doing on….well….Thursday nights, Dean had been tinkering in the bunker’s garage, and Cas was off on some sort of Angelic errand. Then in Chapter 2, “Castiel’s Big Mistake”, we found out why Cas had been away, and what his big mistake had been. A couple of surprises at the end of that story led us to the story you’re about to read.
Each story is unique and can be read on its own, but to get the most out of the adventure, we recommend starting at the beginning, with “Every Thursday Night”.
To add to the fun, we’ll be running another Fan Fiction Poll in a week’s time, and YOU will get to vote on what happens next!
In the meantime, sit back and read about Bobby’s unexpected call, and his mission for the boys….”
A MISSION FROM BOBBY
Two Winchesters and one angel had been standing in the bunker’s library for the better part of an hour now, staring intently at the shortwave radio. But there hadn’t been a sound, not one single, solitary word.
“Are you sure it came from here, Cas?” Sam asked their friend, for the umpteenth time.
“Yes, Sam, I’m sure,” Cas replied earnestly.
“What did he say, exactly?” Dean inquired, for the millionth time.
Cas let out a breath, trying to remain patient. They had been over this, again and again. The instant he’d heard Bobby’s voice coming from the radio, Cas had hurried to the kitchen to tell the brothers about it. All three of them had immediately returned to the library. The snacks the Winchesters had been making had been abandoned in their excitement to hear Bobby’s voice again. But by the time they’d rushed down the hall, the shortwave radio had fallen silent again.
“I told you, Dean,” Cas replied. “He said both of your names, asking if you were here. Then he said that there was something you needed to know, and to contact him in the usual way. And, that was it. I waited to see if there was anything further, but that was all he said.”
“‘The usual way’?” Dean mused aloud. “What’s that mean?”
“I guess he means a seance,” Sam speculated. “That’s how we did it before. Remember, Cas?”
The angel gave Sam a look. Remember? Of course he remembered. Cas and the younger Winchester had gone to see Oliver Pryce, who was a psychic medium the Men of Letters had employed in the past. That was back when Dean had the Mark of Cain on his arm. Sam had brought Cas with him to Oliver’s house, when they’d needed to contact Bobby in Heaven. Sam and Cas had broken Metatron out of Heaven’s prison, with a big assist from Bobby, in an effort to get the Scribe to tell them how to remove the Mark from Dean. It hadn’t really worked out that way, of course. Things seldom went according to plan for Team Free Will. But at least they had been successful in their goal to contact Bobby.
Dean’s mouth tightened. He hadn’t known about that little escapade at the time, but the memories associated with those days were not good ones. Still, if….whatever this was….was important enough for Bobby to bust through the veil and give them a shout-out, he supposed they’d better find out what was going on.
“I’ll give Oliver a call in the morning,” Sam said, looking thoughtful.
Oliver opened the front door to his house, scowling at the trio. Great. Terrific. Sam Winchester and the angel, back again. And now, here he was, the other brother. Dean Winchester, large and in charge. Oliver could tell he no longer had anything wrong with him, but the psychic could also sense an underlying emotion in Dean that he couldn’t quite identify. Of course, many people felt that way around Oliver. It was unsettling to meet someone who could read people’s minds. He got that. Oliver didn’t enjoy it, either. There was a reason he had “No Trespassing” signs all over his property.
Not that these three had been deterred by that, of course. When Sam had called Oliver that morning asking if they could come over for an emergency seance, the psychic made every excuse in the book. He was booked solid, all day. He had a migraine. His dog had the mange. Call him next week. Maybe next month. Better still, call another medium. There were dozens in the book.
Then Oliver had hung up, and then, half an hour later, here they were. He should have figured as much. Sam Winchester was a man who wouldn’t take “no” for an answer. Even now, Oliver could hear Sam’s thoughts. The younger brother was thinking about Bobby Singer, the men the three of them had come here to contact. Again.
“Hello,” Castiel greeted Oliver, stepping into the foyer behind the brothers.
The angel. Oliver looked at Cas out of the corner of his eye. He still couldn’t quite bring himself to believe in angels, even though the proof was standing here, right in front of him. It was strange, though. The last time that Oliver had tried to read Castiel’s thoughts, all he’d been able to see were colours. Now, it was different. The psychic could still see the colours, of course, and they were vibrant. But he could also see shimmering waves now, running through those bands of colour. What did those represent?
Oliver sighed. “Let’s get this over with, then,” he said to the trio. “Follow me.”
They walked further into the house, to the seance room. As they all took their seats, Oliver said, “Do you have – ?”
Before he could finish his sentence, Sam took Bobby’s trucker hat out of his jacket pocket and placed it on the table. Oliver nodded. He reached out one hand to Sam, and the other to Cas. “Please join hands,” he said in his best, most mysterious Madame Cleo voice.
Oliver closed his eyes, speaking the Latin conjuring words. The candles he had lit in the centre of the table flickered, then the flames shot up into the air.
“Hey, fellas,” Bobby said.
Sam and Dean’s mouths dropped open. Bobby was standing right behind Oliver, looking at them with a warm, almost paternal expression.
“Bobby?” Sam said, working his jaw. This was incredible. The last time he and Cas had been here, they could only speak to Bobby, not see him.
“What’s up with the manifestation?” Dean blurted out. He had a lump in his throat a mile wide, but he was covering it up by being glib.
“I don’t know,” Bobby said soberly.
“The longer a person is deceased, the more corporeal their form can become,” Oliver told them. He was covering up his own surprised feeling by speaking as a professional medium would. But it had freaked him out more than just a little bit to see the actual manifestation of a dead man, especially one who had been born way back when Charlie Brown and his lovable gang’s comic strip had premiered.
“No stuff, Sherlock,” Bobby retorted. “Remember who you’re talking to, here. Sam and Dean Winchester know more about ghosts than you ever did, on your best day.”
“Well, you don’t have to be so rude about it,” Oliver said irritably.
“Hey! Matthau! Lemmon! Focus!” Dean exclaimed.
Cas’s forehead wrinkled, and then he realized that Dean was referring to the actors from the movie “Grumpy Old Men”. The angel smiled, amused.
“What’s up, Bobby? Why did you call us?” Sam asked their friend.
Bobby had been sitting in his cabin in Heaven, reading a book and listening to music. Just like he’d been doing when Sam and Cas had called on him last. Today’s satellite station had been classic rock. Maybe he had been feeling nostalgic for the good old days, when he had been in his prime, or maybe he had just been missing the boys. But in any event, the radio station began to fade, and then to crackle.
Suddenly, a 1970s R & B hit began to play. Bobby was puzzled at first, and then he began to tap his toes to it. Talk about a blast from the past.
“Hey, Old Man,” said Rufus.
“Wait a minute,” Dean said. He let go of Cas’s hand. “Rufus?”
“Maintain the connection!” Oliver said sharply, and Dean rolled his eyes. But Bobby was fading from their sight, so Dean grabbed his angel friend’s hand again.
“Rufus?” Dean repeated.
Bobby sighed. “I know. I was as surprised as you are. But, keep your shirt on. There’s a lot more to the story. You still have that amulet I gave you back in the early 90s, don’t you, Sam?”
Sam swallowed, hard. “Yeah, Bobby, I do. Of course I do.”
Actually, the amulet was in Dean’s possession, but Sam saw no reason to make that distinction. It was true that Bobby had given Sam the necklace first, way back when Sam was only eight years old. Sam had wrapped it with care in a couple of sheets of newspaper that Christmas season to give to John. But their father hadn’t shown up for the Big Day that year, even though a teenaged Dean had valiantly tried to pretend that he had. So, Sam had ended up gifting the amulet to his big brother instead, because it was the only thing the young boy’d had to give.
Dean had been touched by the gesture, even though the adolescent male he’d been then had been reluctant to admit it. Still, he had donned the necklace immediately, and not taken it off until Cas had asked to borrow it.
“Yeah, we have it, Bobby,” Dean confirmed, past the lump in his own throat.
“Good,” Bobby said. “Keep it with you, ’cause you’re gonna need it.”
“What’s this all about, Bobby?” Cas asked their friend.
“I’m not really sure,” Bobby replied. He held his hands up in supplication. “But before you jump down my throat, let me give you some background. Me and Rufus were working a voodoo curse case in the Caribbean together, back in the day. We went into this little curio shop to question one of the locals, and the proprietor of the store sold me that amulet. Said it was a protection totem. Rufus bought a brass figurine. Bottom line: when he spoke to me through my radio, he told me that you boys have to find that figurine. Then, his transmission was cut off.”
“Good. Great. Okay, I’ll ask it: why?” Dean asked.
“How the hell should I know?” Bobby retorted. “The only thing I do know is that the guy who sold the amulet to me said it was a pretty powerful protection charm.”
“Yeah? Since when do you believe in any of that hoodoo stuff?” Dean asked their friend, a puzzled look on his face.
“I ain’t saying I do,” Bobby answered him, “but I ain’t saying I don’t, either. All I know is that we saw some things when we were down there….Anyway, I figured it couldn’t hurt, with your Dad doing what he was doing, and everything. The figurine Rufus bought was supposed to represent the Goddess of War, Anat. And your necklace represents the God of Life, Ba’al. They’re supposed to be brother and sister; opposite ends of the spectrum. I wondered why Rufus would want that statuette, if it was what the store owner said it was. But it was none of my business, really. I guess he thought it might help him with hunting, or something. I mean, the guy was missing three toes, and had a pacemaker. He needed all the help he could get.”
They were all quiet for a moment. Bobby was putting on a brave front, but: “I guess it didn’t help him too much in the end, though, did it?” Bobby added, and his tone was a strange mixture of sadness and anger.
No one knew what to say about that, because there was nothing they could say, was there? Still, there had been a reason Bobby had reached out to them, they all knew, and they hadn’t gotten to it yet.
“Not that we’re not glad to see you, Bobby,” Sam finally said, “but…. What’s the point to all of this? Why are we supposed to find that figurine? And why now, after all these years?”
“I don’t know,” Bobby said again. “That’s just what Rufus said.”
“Oh, well, if Rufus said,” Dean said, rolling his eyes again. He let out a frustrated breath. “Can’t you just ask him why?”
“Sure, I’ll do that,” Bobby replied sarcastically. “He’s coming over later, and we’re gonna make s’mores, and knit some potholders.”
“Ummm….don’t humans crochet potholders?” Cas ventured.
They all turned their heads to look at him for a moment. Then, Bobby continued, “Look, it’s not like we’re Felix and Oscar, you guys. This is the first time I’ve heard from him, since he passed. Anyway, the good news is, he’s probably got that figurine stashed, somewhere. Try his cabin. Remember where it is?”
“Yeah, sure, Bobby,” Sam answered their friend. “Whitefish, Montana. We stayed there, for a while. We brought Kevin there to hide him out, before we got the bunker. As far as I know, it’s still being used as a safe house for hunters. Then again, I wonder if it’s even still standing. Even when we were staying here, it was a ramshackle place.”
“‘Ramshackle’?” Dean said, making a face at his brother.
“It’s a word, Dean,” Sam retorted, giving his brother a baleful look.
“‘It’s a word, Dean’,” Dean mouthed to Cas, imitating his brother.
“If the Bickersons are finished….” Bobby said dryly. He sighed. “Look, I’m as mystified as you are, boys. But I don’t think we can afford to take any chances, here. It must have taken some serious mojo for Rufus to be able to do a ‘breaker, breaker’ on my radio, like that. You got any idea who’d have that kind of juice, Cas?”
“I’m not sure what breaking things would have to do with anything, but: no, I don’t,” Cas mused.
“I’m running out of time, here,” Bobby remarked, with an edge to his voice. “Oliver can only hold the veil open for so long. So, I’ve gotta ask: How are you boys doing? I mean, really? Are you OK?”
“We’re good, Bobby,” Sam told him, looking at Dean. His older brother nodded, not trusting himself to speak at the moment.
“Cas?” Bobby asked the angel. “Are you looking out for these two?”
“Yes, I am, Bobby,” Cas assured their friend with a warm smile. “Always. You don’t ever need to worry about that.”
“Good,” Bobby said. “And you, Cas? How are you?”
Cas was a little taken aback. It was so seldom that anyone asked him a question like that, that he wasn’t sure how to respond. Finally, he settled on: “I’m fine, Bobby.” His smile widened. “Just fine.”
“The connection is breaking,” Oliver announced.
“I just want to say that I’m proud of you boys,” Bobby said quickly. “Whatever this is, I’m sure you’ll kick it in the….” His image faded, and then, it vanished.
“‘Bye, Bobby,” Dean said softly, but their friend was already gone.
Silence. “So, the Goddess of War, huh?” Dean said dryly. “Awesome.”
“OK, give me the money, and get out,” Oliver said irascibly. “I don’t know what you guys are cooking up this time, but the last time Sam and the halo were here, it rained frogs in my back yard for a week! Now, get lost, and lose my number.”
The trio rose from their seats, and Sam picked up Bobby’s hat from the table. Dean reached into his pocket for the fee, dropping it onto the table’s surface. Then the three men exited Oliver’s house.
“Wow,” Sam remarked softly. “I guess he wins the Grump-Off.”
Dean and Cas exchanged a glance, but then, they smiled. It had been good to see Bobby again, regardless of the circumstances.
“Road trip!” Dean proclaimed, still smiling.
They had driven all day and into the night, taking turns behind the wheel, and finally they arrived at Rufus’ cabin the next day, around noon. All three men split up and began to search the place, room by room.
No figurine was found, but Sam reached up into the brick facade above the fireplace, and found a loose brick. “Uhhh….guys,” he called out.
A couple of loose bricks later, Sam was able to pry the prize loose. He wriggled the book out of its hiding place as Dean and Cas came into the living room area.
“What’s that?” Dean asked his brother.
Sam blew the dust off the book’s cover and opened it. “Looks like a journal,” he replied, flipping through the pages.
A moment or two later, Sam stopped. “Here it is,” he said out loud. He read quietly to himself for a moment. “Yeah, it’s Rufus’s journal, all right. He mentions bringing the figurine here.”
“Well, how come we couldn’t find it, then?” Dean said irritably. “We’ve been over every inch of this place.”
“Hang on. I just started to read this,” Sam said, holding up his hand. His eyes moved back and forth across the page. “It says here that after he brought the figurine home, it started giving off a lot of ‘bad vibes’.”
“How so?” Cas asked quizzically.
“It doesn’t really say,” Sam responded, still scanning the pages of the journal. “He says that he started having little accidents around the house, and he just felt generally uneasy, all the time. So he tried moving the figurine from place to place, kind of like a feng shui thing.” Sam looked up from the journal, anticipating some sort of comment from Dean. But somewhat surprisingly, none was forthcoming, so Sam bent his head to the book again.
“When that didn’t work, Rufus says here that he put a Jewish prayer shawl over it and put it in a kitchen cupboard, but none of that helped, either. He would find objects broken on the floor the next morning, from the places near the cupboard where the figurine was being kept. Three sets of broken dishes later, he couldn’t deal with that, any more. But he didn’t want to get rid of the figurine, either, because the owner of the store where he bought it told him and Bobby that the objects they were buying had a lot of mojo.”
“Geez, a guy who’s trying to sell a bunch of flea market rejects says they have ‘mojo’,” Dean said sarcastically. “Imagine that.”
“Just wait,” Sam said to his brother, continuing to scan the journal. “I don’t think the guy was just trying to make the sale. It says here that Rufus took the figurine to his bank, and put it in a safe deposit box.”
“Oh. Well, then – ” Cas started to say, but Sam was shaking his head.
“Here’s where it gets really creepy,” the younger Winchester said. “He goes on to say that he thought that would be the end of it. But then, when he tried to sleep at night, there were pounding sounds on the walls, and a female voice shouting, ‘Let me out’!”
“Yikes,” Dean remarked.
Sam nodded. “Sounds like this figurine is an object connected to a vengeful spirit,” he commented. He resumed scanning the pages of the journal. After a moment, Sam went on: “Finally, Rufus had enough. He went to the bank and got it back, and then he flew back to the Caribbean and returned it to the shop where he’d bought it in the first place.”
“Awesome,” Dean said dryly. “So, we’re back to square one.”
“Not exactly,” Sam said, with a thin smile playing on his lips. “He’s got the name and location of the place written here, in the margin. He says it’s just in case, but he can’t imagine why anyone who might find this journal in the future would want to mess with the thing. Rufus says that as a hunter, he’s seen a lot of scary things, but this one was one of the freakiest.”
“Great,” Dean said after a moment, letting out a breath. “Fan-freakin’-tastic.” He sighed. He hadn’t planned on telling them about his surprise so soon. He’d had a big, “Ta-da!” moment planned. After all, what Dean had been doing all that time in the garage with those classic cars, and the results of his efforts, were a really big deal. He’d been looking forward to the expression on Sammy’s face when he sprung the news on him. But, Dean guessed it made sense to tell them now, since they were talking about the subject anyway….
He sighed again. “Well, I might as well tell you. You guys have probably been wondering why I’ve been so much time fixing up those cars in the garage. Right?”
“Uhhh….not really,” Sam said, exchanging glances with Cas. “You like cars.”
“Yeah, but….” Dean sighed again. “Anyway, I figured: we’ve got all those classic wheels, just sitting there, unused and unappreciated. I mean, I’ve got my Baby, Sam’s got his hybrid – ” Dean shuddered for a moment, but then, he soldiered on, ” – and I know Cas doesn’t really care what hunk of junk he drives, as long as it gets him from Point A to Point B. Right, buddy?”
Dean clapped his angel friend on the shoulder as Cas pouted momentarily. But Dean wasn’t finished, yet.
“So….” Dean continued, “I sold a few of those cars, and bought us tickets to fly to the Caribbean for a holiday! How’s that for a lucky coincidence? Ta-da!” He gestured expansively, grinning. “So, what do you say? Let’s combine….whatever this is….with pleasure. Come on, Sammy. It’s what we’ve always talked about. Toes in the sand!”
Sam was quiet for a moment, but then he said, “That’s great, Dean. Really. But what about my class? I made a commitment.”
“Commitment,” Dean said, rolling his eyes. “Yeah. Whatever. YOLO, Sammy! I’m tired of just talking about it, all the time. We’re doing it. End of story.”
But Sam was still frowning, so Dean said, “Maybe you can ask Garth to take over. How about that? A class about monsters, taught by a real werewolf? How cool would that be? Maybe for the final exam, he can transform, and have them play Hide and Seek.”
Sam was smiling now. Actually, maybe that could work out. Sam could just tell his students that he had a family emergency to take care of. He was starting to get excited, already. Hot sun, cold beer, and crystal blue water, as far as the eye could see….
Cas had been silent this whole time, content to let the brothers have their discourse. But he couldn’t help the crestfallen expression on his face. “OK, I’ll just….stay home and….guard the bunker, then,” he said sadly.
“No way, Cas,” Dean stated firmly. “You’re coming with us. You’re family, too, you know. We’ll have to get you into some normal clothes, though. Shorts, and sandals. I’ll take you shopping. What do you say, Sammy? I know a guy. He’ll probably knock thirty percent off the Hawaiian shirts, if all three of us buy some.”
Sam was trying not to grin, now. Hawaiian shirts. Great. All they would have to do was wear black socks with their sandals, and run around taking pictures of literally everything, to make the stereotype complete. But now that the younger Winchester had had the opportunity to think about it for a minute, he had to admit that it had been really cool of Dean to plan this surprise.
Cas thought so too, but unlike Sam, he wasn’t the least bit reluctant to show how he felt at the prospect of being included in the Winchesters’ vacation plans. He would have to arrange to make himself scarce once or twice during the time that they were there, though. Sam and Dean needed their brotherly time together, too. But, Cas couldn’t wait. He loved having new experiences. There were many things that humans took for granted in their everyday lives, things that Castiel had worked hard to master. He was proficient at driving a car now, and he had been teaching himself how to cook, even though he didn’t eat. Sam and Dean did, though, and so did their other human friends. By the time September rolled around, Cas had been hoping to be able to put together a passable four-or-five-course meal for the Winchesters, and a handful of guests. Maybe he would do a little investigating of his own once they got to the islands, to see if there were any exotic foods or spices he could use in the kitchen. Provided that the brothers didn’t need his help with the mission, of course. This figurine they were going there to obtain was a very powerful object, by the sounds of it.
“Why don’t you and Cas go ahead?” Sam said to his brother. “I’ve already got shorts and swim trunks. If you want, you can pick me up a shirt, and some sandals.”
“I don’t know, Sammy,” Dean said with a smirk on his face. “I don’t think they have a Sasquatch shoe store at the mall.”
Sam made a face at his brother, but he let it go. There were too many other things to think about. He started ticking items off on an imaginary To Do list: scuba diving, deep sea fishing, beach volleyball…. The list of things he wanted to do in the Caribbean was almost as long as his arm. Which, in Sam’s case, was really saying something.
Still, he couldn’t just ignore the fact that they were going there for a purpose, too. Besides calling Garth to find out if their friend would even be able to commit to taking over Sam’s night class, the younger Winchester figured he should spend some quality time with his computer and do a little research on Ba’al and Anat. It was funny to think that, in all the time they’d known Bobby and grown up to hunt alongside him, the brothers had never thought to question where that amulet had come from, in the first place. Oh, well. Too busy trying to save people from monsters and demons, Sam supposed. He glanced at Cas. Yeah, and from angels, too.
Dean was beaming with pride. This was the best idea he’d ever had. They were gonna have so much fun.
************To Be Continued…***************
OK, show of hands: Who’s excited to see the boys go on their Caribbean vacation?
What’s the deal with that statue? What do you think will happen when they find it?
Have YOU ever been on a tropical vacation? Where did you go? What was your favourite part, and what was your least favourite thing? If you’ve never been but always wanted to go, where would you go, and what would you do when you got there?
As always, please leave your comments below. Each and every one is greatly appreciated!
Don’t forget to keep checking out our Polls Page! A new poll will be up soon for you to vote on the next stage in this adventure!
Check out my other Supernatural stories on the WFB Writers’ Page! Happy reading!