The Very Thought Of You (SPN) Part 5 up (09/03)!

[HPG]

Oooh, this is getting even more interesting!

[Anilkex]

Mutilated lips in a hex bag! AHHH That's awesome! Loooooove casefics, and this is a dandy. Who the hell says dandy? Anyway. I love the flow of this story - it's smooth and natural, making it incredibly easy to imagine and believe. Looking forward to the next pat!

[Nola]

A.N./ Thanks guys for the continued support!

Mutilated lips in a hex bag! AHHH That's awesome! Loooooove casefics, and this is a dandy. Who the hell says dandy? Anyway. I love the flow of this story - it's smooth and natural, making it incredibly easy to imagine and believe. Looking forward to the next pat!

And wow! Thank you!

Okay, so yeah, it's been quite awhile - again - sorry about that. But here is the long awaited Part 5...I'm expecting there to be one or two more parts...so thanks everyone for reading and reviewing, and of course, enjoying those cute as hell Winchester boys!

They were not disappointed and found another hex bag underneath the bathroom sink, taped up along the wall of the cabinet so not as easily found. Inside was the usual bag of herbs and hair as well as a pair of lips and several white flower petals.

A search of Angela Bufont’s house garnered the same result – a hex bag filled with disturbing contents that either indicated a witch with a twisted sense of humor or something as of yet, undetermined.

Back at their motel, they spread out the contents of each bag on the countertop. Dean popped the top off a beer and the top off a bottle of Advil. He drank the beer and handed his brother the two blue transparent gel caps.

Sam took them and some water without complaint – a testament to how he was feeling – and then indicated the bag they found at Mrs. Bufont’s place. “It’s brain tissue,” he said pointing to the little lump of gray matter, expertly cut to the shape of a human brain. “H’ChMMp!”

“Bless you. And the thumbtack is what? X marks the spot kind of thing?”

“It’s right where the frontal lobe would be,” Sam replied, sniffling. He took one the few remaining tissues he had in his pockets and blew his nose.

“Ah, thoughts,” Dean figured out for himself and Sam, with the tissue still over his nose, just nodded. “But isn’t it: ‘See, hear and speak no evil’? What do thoughts have to do with it?”

Sam shrugged, coughed, and then said, “Well, I guess not everyone’s familiar with the saying.” It was obvious to Dean though, that Sam was already thinking past the saying. That, and he was going to sneeze again. He brought his hand to his face and turned from their ‘evidence’. “Huh-ChMmp! H’EgShoo!”

“Bless you,” Dean said.

Sam sniffled, nodded his thanks, and then went in search of some tissues. Toilet paper was the best substitute and he exited the bathroom with a wad to his face. Talking through it, he said, “Think, see, say…see, hear, speak…I know there’s something...”

Dean let his brother think as he examined the contents of the hex bags again, comparing it to the information they had learned from Monica. If this was a family curse, and that was as possible as anything else was, then it very well could be about evil. And, as curses sometimes worked, anything might count as evil. Mr. Devareaux could have looked at another woman once, Mrs. Devareaux could have spread lies about someone, and perhaps Mrs. Bufont had nasty thoughts about something. And each was being punished based on their ‘sins’ because of the curse.

But since when did a family curse require hex bags? And who started the curse and why? And why did the deaths seem to start when Monica was getting married? Was it the Mascarpone she was marrying? Aloud, Dean asked, “Hey, why now? Why did these people die now? And when was the engagement first announced? Let’s look into Mascarpone.”

Sam absorbed the rapid fire questions a bit slower than usual. He pulled up the engagement announcement at the same time he said, “I checked into Mascarpone. He’s clean. His family’s clean, too. I mean, it’s her family that’s dying.”

Dean looked at the happy couple; Monica as pretty as ever in a white button up and a billowy skirt and her lucky fiancé holding on tight as if someone may come along and snatch her away. They were on a boat. It was just too normal, too picturesque. He shook his head, “It’s gotta be some creep unrelated to both of ‘em.”

“Not necessarily,” Sam said and then succumbed to a series of harsh coughs. Once finished, he added, “I mean it could be a family feud that Monica knows nothing about.”

Dean sighed and turned away from Sam’s screen. “But that still doesn’t answer the question that she seems to be at the center of it.” He rubbed at his jaw, and continued, “I hate those cases where the only thing that helps solve the thing is another death.”

“Yeah, me too,” Sam agreed.

On the plus side, Dean thought, but didn’t say, the wait time could be used efficiently if I could get Sam to rest awhile. “Well, nothing much we can do then.” And then, not in the mood for any pussy-footing around, he said, “Meaning you should get some rest.”

Of course Sam would protest, but Dean was ready, and at his whiny ‘But Dean’, Dean said succinctly, “I mean it, Sam. Go to bed before I put you there.”

Sam furrowed his brow and perhaps, for a moment, considered taking Dean up on his challenging tone. But, he simply sighed and said, “Fine. But, this is just a cold, Dean.”

“So you said,” Dean said, crossing his arms over his chest. “And I’m just asking you to get some rest not check yourself into an ER.”

“Fine,” Sam said again and plopped down on the bed; rather petulantly, in Dean’s opinion.

------------------------------

As Sam tossed and turned, hovering somewhere in between the necessary deep sleep he needed and the lighter, tortured sleep of someone with sinus pain and a stuffy nose, Dean decided in Sam’s absence he would put the case together.

It had to be about Monica’s wedding in some way; the announcement in the paper that the wedding was to be delayed was proof enough of that. So, the answer seemed somewhat obvious now, if he took that line of thinking. Someone did not want Monica to be married. But who and why? But then if he followed those to their logical conclusions it still left the obvious: why kill her family members and not her fiancé? Okay, back to square one.

Evil. A family curse. The people in the Devareaux family were dying because of either some evil they brought upon themselves and now someone was hexing them because of that or someone else thought they deserved it. If it was the first than what on earth could it be? He and Sam had checked into their background and of course they knew what to look for. Dean just didn’t believe this one could be it, too many unanswered questions and not enough substantial proof. So, it all came back to someone else forcing their delusions onto Monica and her family. Someone that had it out for the Devareauxs.

This, with the exception of the hex bags, of course, was starting to look like just a regular sicko. A messed up person with the idea that he or she should have their way with Monica and hers because they could. On any day of the week, Dean would rather gut monsters or vampires than deal with humans who dabbled with the supernatural.

The phone rang then and Dean picked it up before Sam woke up, answering it quietly. It was Monica and in the first two seconds of the phone call, Dean knew he should have just let the phone wake Sam. “Calm down,” he said into the phone, “And tell me where you are.”

He went on, this time with a look in Sam’s direction as he noticed his brother was up and looking at him with that furrowed look of concern. “We’ll be right there. Just hang on.”

“Monica?” Sam questioned as he laced up his shoes.

“Yep,” Dean replied, “It’s her younger sister.”

“Hitting it close to home this time,” Sam said, before coughing, and they were already heading towards the Impala.

Dean turned Baby’s ignition and they drove towards Monica’s house, where she and her sister were now. “I wonder if the hex bag is there or the sister’s house,” he commented.

“The other three died in their homes,” Sam said. “So, the hex bag has to be in Monica’s house. I’ve never heard of a long-range hex spell casting.”

“Interesting how the wicked witch of the bayou knew to place the hex in Monica’s house.”

Sam fought off a sneeze for long enough to say, “What are you thinking? H’ChMMp! Huh-EgShoo!”

“Bless you and nothing yet. I’m just pissed off.” Dean looked over at his brother and said, “You gonna be okay?”

“Yes, Dean,” Sam said a touch sarcastically, and when Dean did not reply, Sam glanced at him and said, “Honestly. I’ve felt worse.”

“You’re going to feel worse if you’re lying to me,” Dean threatened but not with much heat.

Sam smiled, squelched a cough or three and then prepared himself mentally for what lay ahead as Dean pulled into Monica’s drive.

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[Pyrus_Fangmon]

Ohhhh the suspense! I can't wait to see what happens.

[HPG]

What will happen next?

[Sass]

I love this story, I've read through it a few times and I'm dying to know what happens next! I really hope you keep it going.

[Nola]

I love this story, I've read through it a few times and I'm dying to know what happens next! I really hope you keep it going.

This totally made my day! I'm going to try to edit what I have and get back to it! Thank you so much for the kind words!

[Sass]

Yay!!!!!!!!!!

[Poniessneezetoo]

This is really good