The Curse: Chapter 1

The door of the impala creaked and groaned as Dean swung it open and stepped out of the car into the sunlight. His tie dug into his neck causing his fingers to slide back and forth under his shirt collar unconsciously. He swivelled his head creating space between his skin and the offending object. His FBI digs were certainly not his favourite articles of clothing. Thinking about his comfy flannel waiting back at the motel put a little more motion in his movements. "Move it Cas," he tossed over the shiny, black roof.

"Dean." His name came out as an exasperated sigh and he couldn't help the eye roll as he turned toward his angelic friend. "Dean, I've lost my badge."

This time it was Dean that sighed, his head tilted sideways and his body slumped in frustration. "How could you have lost it? We literally just came from the sheriff's office. You had it there." He gestured towards the general direction of the office with his hand in impatience. "Did you check your pockets?"

Cas glared at Dean with irritation for the motherly comment. "Yes, Dean. Of course I checked my pockets." Cas started patting down his chest and sides signifying that there was nothing there. "I am a centuries old, celestial being. I would know if my badge was in my pockets," he growled.

"Well, you'd think a 'centuries old, celestial being' wouldn't misplace it in the first place," Dean retorted with a snort. If looks could kill, Dean would have been a pile of ashes at this moment. "Come on, man. I'll flash my badge and you just stay behind me. I bet she won't even notice." Cas sighed again, but dutifully followed Dean as he resumed walking towards the wrap-around porch. The graceful, white-shuttered home sat nestled amongst a number of weeping willows making it seem like a Home and Gardens magazine cover. Rays of sunlight filtered between the trees exposing the bright green grass and a gentle breeze caused the long tendrils of the willows to sway. The peaceful setting gave no indication of the horror that had happened here just two nights ago.

Dean reached the house with Cas in tow and rapped on the wood frame of the screen door. It was just a short moment before an attractive, middle-aged woman swung the door open with questioning, tear-filled eyes. She blinked rapidly as if trying to clear her hazel orbs while simultaneously trying to identify the two strangers on her porch. "Can I help you?"

"Uh, yes ma'am." Dean flipped his badge open and shoved it a little closer to her face than usual to cover for the fact that Cas didn't have one. "I'm Agent Stewart and this is Agent Rose. We're with the FBI and have a few questions for you. Can we come in?"

The petite lady acquiesced and showed them into a large entry way that directly led into a stately living room. Filled, oak bookshelves lined the walls meeting at the middle where a fireplace equally divided the room. She gestured for them to sit on a delicate, floral settee. For a moment, Dean worried it wouldn't hold under both his and Cas' weight. He settled for sitting at the edge and leaning in the direction of Mrs. Sutterfield, now seated in a wingback chair, nervously playing with the hem of her skirt. Her eyes flitted between Cas and Dean, anguish evidently written on her face. Her pleasant features could not cover the fact she was clearly sleep deprived.

"Mrs. Sutterfield, the sheriff told us you were here the night your husband was killed." Her nod was barely needed as tears sprung back to her eyes. "Could you tell us what happened?"

The lady's gaze went straight back to her hemline and nervousness radiated from her in waves. "I-" She broke off, cleared her throat, and had to re-start. "I went to bed early that night. I had an early meeting the next day, you see, and I turned in right after dinner." She anxiously tugged at her hem again. "My husband – he stayed downstairs in the study. He was writing a novel." Mrs. Sutterfield's eyes finally lifted and met Dean's. Sad pride shown through them and her lips turned up slightly. "He was always doing something incredible like that. Cam was extremely talented."

Dean cleared his throat and attempted to redirect her before she was lost in memory lane. "What happened next?" His prodding was gentle, but firm.

She sighed, clearly unhappy about re-living the events that night instead of bragging about her now late husband. "I heard screams. It woke me up and I raced downstairs, but I was too late. He was on the ground in front of his desk. Blood was everywhere -" she broke off again.

"Mrs. Sutterfield, do you remember anything strange from that night? Cold spots? Smells?"

She looked confused and uncomfortable. "It was really cold, strangely cold considering it's summer."

Dean exchanged a quick glance with Cas. "You know, I think it might be best for you to take a vacation. Go visit a friend, you know? It would be good for you to be out of the house and just be around some people."

"Well, I had considered going to stay with Nancy. She's my best friend, lives a few towns over."

"There you go. I think that would be great for you. Why don't you show us to the study and then give Nancy a call, huh?"

The petite lady showed them down the hallway and into a small room. The walls were a deep, hunter green and a desk sat in front of the only window overlooking the large green expanse outside. A valence of burgundy velvet hung above it, giving the room it's only feminine touch. The rest of the décor sitting on the desk and nearby bookshelf had clearly been chosen by a man.

Mrs. Sutterfield excused herself, obviously shaken just from stepping foot into the room. Dean popped his EMF reader from his pocket and flicked on the switch, prepared to scan the room. The small device went crazy, quickly going off on the highest setting, and Dean gave Cas a meaningful look. "Guess that answers that question." He switched it off to silence the device.

"Sam said there were rope marks on the victim's neck and wrists." Cas spoke for the first time, looking over the room for any evidence. "The autopsy also showed that the victim was nearly bled out." His brow crinkled in confusion at the complete lack of blood anywhere.

"Yah, uh, I'm guessing with the money and the house that they've got, the cleaners have already been out here. Well," Dean clapped his hands, "we've done our part. Ghost confirmed. Now just need Sam to clack a few keys, work his magic, and we can go salt and burn this mofo. Shall we?" He nodded his head towards the door, barely waiting on agreement from the dark-haired man before heading out of the study. They discovered Mrs. Sutterfield pacing in the long hallway and handed her a business car on the way out.

"Oh, one more thing," Dean swivelled on his toe just on the threshold of the door, a hunch suddenly striking him. "How long have you lived here?"

"Just two weeks. We bought the house three months ago and completely renovated it. We had just finished Cam's study for his work."

"Ok, thanks so much for your time." He quickly turned on his heel and walked out of the house letting the screen door slam into Cas. Behind him he heard mumbling and a curt 'goodbye' before the scuffling footsteps hurried to catch up. As Dean was beelining his way to the car, there was a slight motion to his far right. He slowed to a stop, peering into the trees trying to see what had caught his attention. He felt Cas move into the space on his left. "Cas, I think – "

"I saw it as well," Cas interrupted. Together they stepped towards the tree line, each slowly retrieving their weapons. Dean grasped the smooth handle of his gun, easing it out from the small of his back and lifted it, aiming the weapon towards the trees. With his left hand he made a quick gesture for Cas to move in the opposite direction. Stealthily creeping around a cluster of trees and overgrowth, Dean and Cas moved to surround the offending person or thing and in tandem, they came into the clearing just behind the trees, weapons raised. They immediately saw a small, crouched figure with her head curled over a small bowl. Dean could vaguely hear mumbling.

"Hey!" Dean shouted authoritatively. In response, there was an instant swirl of purple light emanating from the wooden bowl that rapidly began to surround them. He could feel the hair on his arms stand up from the electricity suddenly in the air. His gut churned with unease. He aimed his weapon in synchronous movement with Cas who jumped towards the figure in an attempt to stop her. The purple light stopped them abruptly as it's tendrils coiled around their bodies, rendering them immobile. Dean tried to squeeze the trigger of his gun, but found that his movement was disabled completely. His eyes flicked up to meet Cas' and panic filled him upon discovering that his angelic friend was in the same position.

The next moment seemed to happen all at once and also in slow motion. The figure before them slowly stood from her crouching position, raising one hand towards Dean and one towards Cas. Her voice filled the air, growing louder and louder. Upon finishing her incantation, she pushed her hands outwards, moving the purple light on command. The swirls pierced Dean's chest and he cried out in agony, his eyes blowing wide in pain. He couldn't even look down to see what was happening, but he felt his feet being lifted off the ground and his body arched in the air. Fire raced through his veins, followed by an instantaneous cold. A scream was ripped from his throat as the hurt became unbearable. Just as he thought that he couldn't handle anymore, Dean was unceremoniously dropped and crumpled to the ground.

Dean's vision blurred and he distantly heard retreating footsteps. He blinked slowly trying to clear his sight and he found that he was still unable to move. The soft touch of grass brushed the side of his face, the ground beneath him established that he was indeed laying down. With a great deal of effort, Dean grunted his friend's name. The lack of response fuelled his desire to move so he could check on Cas, but his body had different plans. His head became increasingly fuzzy by the minute and the world blackened around him and Dean drifted away to unconsciousness with Cas' name dying on his lips.

….

A strange buzzing against his leg brought Cas to consciousness. What a strange sensation. He was still unaccustomed to sleeping and only did so when absolutely necessary to energize his vessel, but he didn't remember going to sleep this time. He reached for the offending object and slowly lifted it to his face. "Hello," he growled into the speaker of the phone.

"Cas! Finally. Where have you two been?" Sam's insistent voice blared through the small, human contraption. Cas grimaced, moving the phone farther from his ear. He blinked his eyes open, groaning at the pain flowing through his body. Moonlight blinking through the trees greeted his vision "Cas, are you alright? What's going on?"

"Please stop yelling. Your voice is grating on my skull." He rubbed his forehead, memory slowly returning to him. The last thing he remembered was a burning pain from some sort of strange purple light that had gone straight through his body. How much time had passed since then? Dean! A groan loosed from deep inside him as he shifted himself up off the ground, his eyes frantically searching, his cell laid by the wayside.

"Dean!" He rushed towards his collapsed friend, his body protesting every step. He fell to his knees in front of Dean's crumpled body and Cas gently shook his shoulder. A moan greeted him in return and instant relief flooded through him. Green eyes were slowly revealed as Dean looked up at him and frowned.

"Whatisit?" Dean mumbled, slurring his words together. "Whaswrong?"

"We were struck by some sort of purple light before passing out, for many hours it seems. Can you move?" He aided Dean in sitting up and saw clarity begin to make its way through him. Dean ran a hand over his face and groaned.

"Oh man. What the hell was that?"

"I believe it was some sort of spell, but I haven't seen anything quite like it before."

"Well it sure packed one hell of a punch. My chest hurts," Dean groaned and rubbed his sternum with his thumb. Cas nodded in agreement as a small jolt went through his chest. Something was wrong with this case. First, a ghost in the house and then a witch right outside? Cas was new to this hunting business, but even he knew this was unusual. "Come on, Cas. Let's ditch this joint."

Cas offered his arm to Dean and hoisted him from the ground before walking back to the spot where he first awoke. He heard a persistent voice coming from the tinny speakers of his cell as he picked it up and lifted it to his ear. "Sam, Dean and I are fine."

"Thank god. What happened?" Sam's voice was tinged with relief.

"I'm not entirely sure, but I believe we have encountered a witch. She was hiding near the house we came to investigate. She was working a spell, controlled some sort of purple electricity that hit us. We have been unconscious for several hours."

"Geez. That's why I haven't been able to get a hold of you."

Dean motioned for the cell. "Hey Sam, it's me."

"Hey Dean. You alright?"

"Peachy. Getting hit by some sort of weird light that was created and controlled by a witch is just another day on the job, right?" Sam huffed out a small laugh in agreement. "So, before we got fried-up, extra crispy, we got some strong-ass EMF signals from the house. On top of that, the wife said they renovated the entire house and just now finished with the study. Anything flag up on the house during your research?"

"Actually, yes."

"Ok, great," Dean interrupted. "Let's talk over burgers. We'll make a plan after I have some food in me." With that, he promptly hung up on his brother, handed the cell back to Cas, and they began walking back towards the impala.

"Dean, are we going to ignore the fact that we might have been hexed or hit by some type of spell?"

Dean sighed as he swung open the driver-side door and looked at Cas. "What do you wanna do about it? It's not like we know why she was here or where is she now."

"No, but if we could find that out, perhaps it would shed some light on this case. Surely this must be connected. It is highly unlikely that a ghost and a witch in the same place would be a coincidence."

"Yeah I was thinking the same thing. A straight up salt-and-burn would be too freaking easy wouldn't it? No, we have to run into a bitch too."

"A witch," Cas corrected. He was met with a glare before Dean ducked into the car. He followed suit and continued as Dean started the car and began to drive along the gravel road heading back to the main interstate. "We need to find out what Sam's research has found. Perhaps there might be a link that we are currently missing, connecting the two puzzle pieces." He looked over at Dean and saw a huge grin spreading on the face of his friend. "What?"

Dean chuckled. "Nothing man. I just like that you're getting into it, you know? Hunting with you is – it's good man, it's right." Cas looked at him dubiously, trying to gauge if Dean was making fun of him. His lips turned up slightly at the sincerity that he found in the other man's face and he felt warmth spread through him.

"Thank you, Dean, you are a good teacher." Dean cracked a smile and turned up the radio volume, singing along to whatever hair metal band was playing. Cas couldn't help but feel happy, despite the off-key crooning that was happening next to him. He had found such a wonderful friendship and a sense of belonging with Sam and Dean that he had never before experienced. In his many, many years, he had never felt such purpose nor such a familial bond. He had never been so content.

Before he realized it, they were pulling up to a diner in the town to meet up with Sam. As they walked in, Sam waved them over to a corner booth where he had his laptop and some books spread in front of him. Cas and Dean slid into the booth on the opposite side and Dean immediately began perusing the menu. "Man, I'm starved."

"Glad to see your appetite isn't suffering from electrocution." Sam raised an eyebrow at his brother.

"Please, it was hardly even a tickle."

"It was much more than a tickle," Cas interjected. "You screamed quite loudly."

Dean glowered at Cas before returning to the menu and Sam looked worriedly between the two. "Are you sure you guys are ok? I mean, if you were hit with a spell, there could be some side effects besides your little cat nap today."

"We're fine," Dean brushed off the concern and motioned for a waitress. "Yeah, I'll take a double bacon cheeseburger, heavy on the bacon, heavy on the cheese. Thanks." He looked back at Sam, his eyebrows once again raised. "What?" Dean grinned as he replaced the menu to its spot in a small box by the wall. As he dropped it in, the corner caught his thumb and just barely cut him. He hissed in displeasure as a small amount of blood began to well up. Cas felt a prick on his own thumb and glanced down, confused as the sight of blood greeted him. He raised his hand to look at it.

"Dean."

"Son of a bitch. Why do paper cuts hurt so much?" Dean was mumbling and stuck the corner of his thumb to his mouth.

"Dean." Cas said more insistently and his friend finally looked over.

"Dude, why are you bleeding? How are you bleeding? I thought your angel powers were up and running." Dean looked confused and glanced back down at his own hand, then his eyes shot back up to Cas' as connections fired in his brain.

The three of them looked back and forth from Dean's hand to Cas'. The tiny amount of blood on each was in the same, exact spot. Finally, Dean spoke up.

"Well this can't be good."

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed! Reviews are love.