I'll Tell You My Sins so You Can Sharpen Your Knife
People don't cry when they're sad or angry. They cry when they're overwhelmed.
“So, I’ve been doing some research.” Bobby said as Dean wandered into the room.
“The Leviathans?”
“No.” Bobby threw a heavy book at Dean, who just managed to catch it. “Idjit. On Sarah.”
Dean turned away.
“If she is white, it means she doesn’t kill or use power for self-gain.” Baobby said. “She still has her soul intact. Better than I can say about either of us.”
“Oh, definitely.” A silky voice said. The two jumped and turned to see Crowley. He shook a finger at Dean. “Pissing off the one witch who didn’t hate you? Naughty.”
“What do you want, Crowley?” Dean growled.
“I heard about your little spat with Sarah, and decided to come and tell you her story.” He sat in a chair and produced a flask. “Seeing as Castiel has imploded, someone has to take pity and be nice to you boys. And no one knows more about Sarah than me.”
“She made a deal with you.” Dean guessed.
Crowley snorted. “I wish. No, her mother did. Wanted to be the most powerful woman in the land. There was a bit of a mix up, and dear old Matilda got fifty years. Which really was unfortunate, seeing as she had Sarah and the power went down the bloodline. No deal needed.”
“She hates her mother.” Bobby said. “She told me about it once. She was terrible to Sarah and to Sarah’s father.”
“As you can imagine.” Crowley said. “There was a bit of a Snow White situation on Matilda’s hands. Her daughter was more powerful than she was. And not only that, she wanted to be white. Would not join the Grand Coven. That was the scary part. Most white witches can manage a few simple spells. Sarah managed to kill her mother, who by then was the head of the Grand Coven.”
“That’s why the coven is after her.” Bobby finished. “Why she’s in hiding.”
Crowley drank more. “Congratulations, Dean. You ostracized the one witch who can solve all the witch problems in the country. They’re even a nightmare for me, once in a while. Hope it doesn’t bite you in the ass.”
~*~
Sarah pulled up outside the old Victorian house she had found online. The lawn and trees were overgrown. Missouri was the last place anyone would expect her to go. Which was exactly why she had ended up there.
She took out the house key from her pocket and unlocked the huge solid oak door. She immediately sneezed. It was dusty.
The floors were all dark wood. A staircase immediately in front of her went to the second floor. Through a small door in front of her, she could see a recently renovated kitchen. To her right was a huge living room. Any space not with a window had a bookshelf. The shelving continued into the next room, which had a huge dining table.
Perfect.
~*~
“Why did you call me here, Sam?” Sarah demanded, snatching her ring away from him seconds after he had called her. “A hospital? You want a healing, call an angel.”
“I think it’s too late for an angel.” Sam said. “Bobby’s dying.”
The breath was knocked out of her. “What?”
“Dick Roman. He’s the head of the Leviathans. He shot him. In the head. He’s still alive. In a coma. But they say it’s a matter of time.”
“Where is he?”
“Dean’s with him.”
“I don’t care! Where is he?”
Sam sighed and led her into the hospital, into the trauma ward. As soon as they entered the room where Bobby was, she ran past him and grabbed his hand tightly.
“Oh, Bobby.” She said. “What have you done this time?”
Dean, snoozing in a chair in the corner, awoke with a start. He zeroed in on Sarah. “What the hell are you doing here?” he growled.
“I called her.” Sam replied. “She deserves to be able to say goodbye.”
“Leave.” Dean said to her. “Family only.”
Sarah glared and it took all that Dean had not to shrink away. Tears brimmed in her eyes. “You’re not the only one he was like a father to.” She turned her attention back to Bobby and kissed his gnarled worker’s hands. Then she started to sob.
Sam put a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Take a walk. Give her a minute.”
Dean couldn’t get out of Sarah’s presence any faster. Sam stood behind Sarah.
“I wish you didn’t have to see that.” She told Bobby with a sniffle. “Dean making an ass of himself at your deathbed.” She looked up at Sam with a sad smile. “We got pretty close, you know. In his way. When he was in the chair and I was trapped in that house.”
“I know. That’s why I called you.”
She kissed Bobby’s forehead, wiped away her tears, and stood. “I should go. Before you need to find a bed for Dean, too.”
“Sarah. He doesn’t – “
“Don’t, Sam. Just don’t.”
She gave Bobby’s hand a last squeeze and left the room, heading back through the trauma ward towards the exits.
“Sarah!”
She sped up.
“Sarah! Stop!”
Sarah was yanked around as Dean caught her arm. She looked up into his clear eyes.
“I’m sorry.” He said. “I overreacted. I know you and Bobby were close.”
She jerked her arm out of his grasp. “You can apologize for that, and not for trying to kill me?”
“I thought that was implied.”
“Yeah. Okay. Maybe that’s why you and Lisa didn’t work out, Dean. You can’t seem to talk when it matters.”
The words were meant to sting, and they did. She turned away and left the hospital. Dean cupped his face in his hands. Things between him and Sarah were complicated enough before. But her being a witch and him trying to kill her in his morning daze just made things worse.
~*~
A month later, Sarah stood on the porch of her house and looked up at the cloudy sky. Snow was threatening.
Something was happening in Massachusetts. It had caught her attention when she was looking for the Coven. But this was more pressing. This was dangerous. And she needed help.
“You have reached an automated call voicemail box. 307-867-5309 is not available. Please leave your message after the tone.”
Sarah sighed. “Hey, Dean. I know you’re ignoring my calls. I know you don’t want to hear from me. But I need help on a job. And, well, Merry Christmas.” She thought and laughed. “Reminds me of that Fall Out Boy song. Not that you’d know it. Anyway, I hope you and Sam are alright. Give me a call. Merry Christmas. Bye.”
~*~
Dean was dreaming. A dark haired woman in a small silk skirt, lace bra and a witch’s had. She was covered in green body glitter. She swung around a pole, not once taking her eyes off Dean.
She abruptly stopped dancging and walked down the runway, sitting on the edge. She rested a stiletto on Dean’s knee. This was normal. This was part of the script in these dreams. But when she opened her mouth to talk, the words were different.
“Dean, we have to talk.” She sighed. “Although maybe we should talk about your porn addiction first.”
He blinked and straightened up. “Sarah?”
She was fiddling with the brim of her hat. “Theme night, huh? Classy.”
“How are you here?”
“Really, Dean? The costume isn’t enough for you? It’s a spell. Unfortunately, I can only take the role of what is already in your head. I can’t make my own figure.” She frowned. “You have dreams about witch-strippers often?”
He scowled at her. “How do you know I won’t kick you out?”
She smiled. “Because I know you miss my sour personality.”
He rolled his eyes. “What do you want, Sarah?”
“There’s something nasty in Massachusetts. I left you messages and you didn’t answer. But if we don’t act soon, it’s going to make its way down the Eastern Seaboard.”
“And what’s your excuse for not dealing with it this time? Low juice?”
She scowled at him. “It’s a big job. Brand new type of monster, scarier than just about anything. I could use some help.”
He studied her.
“A lot of people will be saved.” Sarah said. “This isn’t the average monster. It moves fast.”
Dean nodded slowly. “Alright. We can be there in a week.”
“Great.” She rested her other stiletto on his lap. “You’re not going to be an ass, are you?”
“Are you?”
She sighed, swung her feet onto the floor, leaned over and kissed him.
“See you soon.” She whispered in a voice that wasn’t quite Sarah’s.
And Dean realized that the stripper didn’t look like Sarah anymore.
“The Leviathans?”
“No.” Bobby threw a heavy book at Dean, who just managed to catch it. “Idjit. On Sarah.”
Dean turned away.
“If she is white, it means she doesn’t kill or use power for self-gain.” Baobby said. “She still has her soul intact. Better than I can say about either of us.”
“Oh, definitely.” A silky voice said. The two jumped and turned to see Crowley. He shook a finger at Dean. “Pissing off the one witch who didn’t hate you? Naughty.”
“What do you want, Crowley?” Dean growled.
“I heard about your little spat with Sarah, and decided to come and tell you her story.” He sat in a chair and produced a flask. “Seeing as Castiel has imploded, someone has to take pity and be nice to you boys. And no one knows more about Sarah than me.”
“She made a deal with you.” Dean guessed.
Crowley snorted. “I wish. No, her mother did. Wanted to be the most powerful woman in the land. There was a bit of a mix up, and dear old Matilda got fifty years. Which really was unfortunate, seeing as she had Sarah and the power went down the bloodline. No deal needed.”
“She hates her mother.” Bobby said. “She told me about it once. She was terrible to Sarah and to Sarah’s father.”
“As you can imagine.” Crowley said. “There was a bit of a Snow White situation on Matilda’s hands. Her daughter was more powerful than she was. And not only that, she wanted to be white. Would not join the Grand Coven. That was the scary part. Most white witches can manage a few simple spells. Sarah managed to kill her mother, who by then was the head of the Grand Coven.”
“That’s why the coven is after her.” Bobby finished. “Why she’s in hiding.”
Crowley drank more. “Congratulations, Dean. You ostracized the one witch who can solve all the witch problems in the country. They’re even a nightmare for me, once in a while. Hope it doesn’t bite you in the ass.”
~*~
Sarah pulled up outside the old Victorian house she had found online. The lawn and trees were overgrown. Missouri was the last place anyone would expect her to go. Which was exactly why she had ended up there.
She took out the house key from her pocket and unlocked the huge solid oak door. She immediately sneezed. It was dusty.
The floors were all dark wood. A staircase immediately in front of her went to the second floor. Through a small door in front of her, she could see a recently renovated kitchen. To her right was a huge living room. Any space not with a window had a bookshelf. The shelving continued into the next room, which had a huge dining table.
Perfect.
~*~
“Why did you call me here, Sam?” Sarah demanded, snatching her ring away from him seconds after he had called her. “A hospital? You want a healing, call an angel.”
“I think it’s too late for an angel.” Sam said. “Bobby’s dying.”
The breath was knocked out of her. “What?”
“Dick Roman. He’s the head of the Leviathans. He shot him. In the head. He’s still alive. In a coma. But they say it’s a matter of time.”
“Where is he?”
“Dean’s with him.”
“I don’t care! Where is he?”
Sam sighed and led her into the hospital, into the trauma ward. As soon as they entered the room where Bobby was, she ran past him and grabbed his hand tightly.
“Oh, Bobby.” She said. “What have you done this time?”
Dean, snoozing in a chair in the corner, awoke with a start. He zeroed in on Sarah. “What the hell are you doing here?” he growled.
“I called her.” Sam replied. “She deserves to be able to say goodbye.”
“Leave.” Dean said to her. “Family only.”
Sarah glared and it took all that Dean had not to shrink away. Tears brimmed in her eyes. “You’re not the only one he was like a father to.” She turned her attention back to Bobby and kissed his gnarled worker’s hands. Then she started to sob.
Sam put a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Take a walk. Give her a minute.”
Dean couldn’t get out of Sarah’s presence any faster. Sam stood behind Sarah.
“I wish you didn’t have to see that.” She told Bobby with a sniffle. “Dean making an ass of himself at your deathbed.” She looked up at Sam with a sad smile. “We got pretty close, you know. In his way. When he was in the chair and I was trapped in that house.”
“I know. That’s why I called you.”
She kissed Bobby’s forehead, wiped away her tears, and stood. “I should go. Before you need to find a bed for Dean, too.”
“Sarah. He doesn’t – “
“Don’t, Sam. Just don’t.”
She gave Bobby’s hand a last squeeze and left the room, heading back through the trauma ward towards the exits.
“Sarah!”
She sped up.
“Sarah! Stop!”
Sarah was yanked around as Dean caught her arm. She looked up into his clear eyes.
“I’m sorry.” He said. “I overreacted. I know you and Bobby were close.”
She jerked her arm out of his grasp. “You can apologize for that, and not for trying to kill me?”
“I thought that was implied.”
“Yeah. Okay. Maybe that’s why you and Lisa didn’t work out, Dean. You can’t seem to talk when it matters.”
The words were meant to sting, and they did. She turned away and left the hospital. Dean cupped his face in his hands. Things between him and Sarah were complicated enough before. But her being a witch and him trying to kill her in his morning daze just made things worse.
~*~
A month later, Sarah stood on the porch of her house and looked up at the cloudy sky. Snow was threatening.
Something was happening in Massachusetts. It had caught her attention when she was looking for the Coven. But this was more pressing. This was dangerous. And she needed help.
“You have reached an automated call voicemail box. 307-867-5309 is not available. Please leave your message after the tone.”
Sarah sighed. “Hey, Dean. I know you’re ignoring my calls. I know you don’t want to hear from me. But I need help on a job. And, well, Merry Christmas.” She thought and laughed. “Reminds me of that Fall Out Boy song. Not that you’d know it. Anyway, I hope you and Sam are alright. Give me a call. Merry Christmas. Bye.”
~*~
Dean was dreaming. A dark haired woman in a small silk skirt, lace bra and a witch’s had. She was covered in green body glitter. She swung around a pole, not once taking her eyes off Dean.
She abruptly stopped dancging and walked down the runway, sitting on the edge. She rested a stiletto on Dean’s knee. This was normal. This was part of the script in these dreams. But when she opened her mouth to talk, the words were different.
“Dean, we have to talk.” She sighed. “Although maybe we should talk about your porn addiction first.”
He blinked and straightened up. “Sarah?”
She was fiddling with the brim of her hat. “Theme night, huh? Classy.”
“How are you here?”
“Really, Dean? The costume isn’t enough for you? It’s a spell. Unfortunately, I can only take the role of what is already in your head. I can’t make my own figure.” She frowned. “You have dreams about witch-strippers often?”
He scowled at her. “How do you know I won’t kick you out?”
She smiled. “Because I know you miss my sour personality.”
He rolled his eyes. “What do you want, Sarah?”
“There’s something nasty in Massachusetts. I left you messages and you didn’t answer. But if we don’t act soon, it’s going to make its way down the Eastern Seaboard.”
“And what’s your excuse for not dealing with it this time? Low juice?”
She scowled at him. “It’s a big job. Brand new type of monster, scarier than just about anything. I could use some help.”
He studied her.
“A lot of people will be saved.” Sarah said. “This isn’t the average monster. It moves fast.”
Dean nodded slowly. “Alright. We can be there in a week.”
“Great.” She rested her other stiletto on his lap. “You’re not going to be an ass, are you?”
“Are you?”
She sighed, swung her feet onto the floor, leaned over and kissed him.
“See you soon.” She whispered in a voice that wasn’t quite Sarah’s.
And Dean realized that the stripper didn’t look like Sarah anymore.