a strange thing happened on the way to the museum
For my family,
Who are totally nuts.
(And I love them for it.)
"Um," Sammie said weakly. "That's a nice knife."
Nina shrugged dismissively. "It's plated in diamonds," she said, as if to say, hey, this baby could kill you without breaking a sweat, but don't worry. It would still be done with class.
Sammie shifted. "Um," she said again, because okay, the knife was awesome.
Nina paid no attention to her. She handed the Bowl of Mysterious Origin to Samantha and went about setting up the table; from her suspiciously expensive purse she produced a large cross, a small black book with a leather binding, a fistful of rose petals, a table cloth, newspaper clippings, three candles, and a box of matches.
"Got room in there for a wallet?" Sammie joked weakly.
"All right," Nina instructed in monotone, "Give me your hand."
She brandished the knife.
"My hand?" Sammie squeaked. "Like, my hand hand? Because, um, you should know, I'm kind of a germophobe and, um - "
No dice. Nina just looked at her with that Cunty Stare she'd obviously been practicing, since it got more and more cunty every time she whipped it out.
"I have to pee," Sammie said.
"Dad, can I puh-lease get a diamond-plated knife like Nina's? I could like, totes kick ass with a diamond-plated knife. And I swear I won't ever complain about hunting again because, I mean, I'll have this x-core bitchin' weap that I could carry around with me, and I would name it Diana after the huntress but give it the nick 'Di' like 'diamond' which is so perf, I mean, don't you think? I know, I'm like a total—"
John Winchester has discovered where words go when they die.
He thrust the phone at Dean. "Talk to your sister," he ordered, "Before I go in there and beat her to death with that diamond-plated knife that we're never going to hear the end of."
"--Oh em gee, Dean, why does Dad have to be so lame? Like he's never wanted a cool new diamond-plated knife before. It's so cute. It's got little studs all along the handles and the handle is like, all cushy so that it doesn't hurt when you stab things or have to, like, rip through something or whatever. Dean. It kicks total ass. And Nina's is engraved on the bottom, with her initials, and –"
Dean handed the phone wordlessly to Lucy, his expression dazed. "Could you…?"
His voice was feeble. Defeated.
"—I know it's totes ridic that I'm asking now, but obvi I might not get a chance later, and this is just one of those things that is like, supes important to me, Daddy. I mean, I don't ask for very much cuz I know you work like, so hard for Dean'n'me, but couldn't we have like uno exception? I mean, for me? It's just one little life, like, bee eff dee. And that's, in case you don't know, 'big flippin' deal' or I mean it could be that other f-bomb but like, I'm not gonna be the one to say it – "
Lucy slowly put the phone on the dash, where Sammie's uninetelligable ramblings could barely be heard over the whine of the Impala.
"I have to go now," she said numbly, the words drawn out and cautious, as if she didn't trust herself to speak without vomiting.
Neither Dean nor John noticed her leave.
In silence, both of them stared at the phone.
They sat like that for a long time.
"—And I told Nina that I take a while in the bathroom and everything but I mean, this is getting a t-bit redic so I'm gonna let you go for reals. And oh, totes don't worry because we're in a room without windows but like, I can totes handle myself. I mean, how hard can it be? Plus, maybe if I win I'll get to keep the knife and that way no one has to worry about buying it! I mean, okay, so there's the minor problem of the wrong initials, but we can totes work that out. Okay? Okay. Great. Love you, mean it!"
The line went dead. Dean wiped his bleeding ears clean and turned slowly to face his father, who was thinking, I am going to kill every fuckin' witch on this planet. I am not going to stop until they are all so dead they don't even know what life is.
"Do you think it's safe?" he asked, whispering, his ears grating with the sound of … words.
"She has to get that from her mother's side," John said wonderingly. "I've never heard – I never suspected – "
"Dad," Dean said, steeling himself. "We have to get Sam back. I can't—" His voice cracked. "I can't go through that again. I can't do it, Dad."
John's hand landed heavily on his son's shoulder, eyes bright. "Don't speak, son. I know just what you're saying."
"Okay," Sammie chirped, re-entering the room. "So what's the dealio?"
Nina sat cross-legged in the center of the room's rug, her eyes skimming over the black book. "Well, Sammie, this is the plan. I give you magic to keep you pretty and thin, and in return I get your brother."
Wow, Sammie thought. This girl is really desperate. I mean, she needs magic to get a boyfriend? Can you say puh-thetic?
"And, um, what exactly does that entail?" Sammie asked.
"Oh, it's easy," Nina purred, taking Sammie's hand in a friendly-slash-terrifying gesture of solidarity. "All we have to do is make a little cut on your hand—just a little one. And I make a cut on my hand. And then we're blood sisters, see? And since I'm a witch, that will automatically make you a witch. And from there it's all just a matter of you asking for what you want, and me sucking Dean off."
Um, okay, graphic much? Like, ew.
"Sure," Sammie said, sarcastic. "Sounds super."
Let the record show that Sammie did not even for the tiniest of seconds actually consider turning over her brother to the harpy in front of her. She wanted to be skinny but, really, she wasn't that desperate.
Or fat. If she'd been really that fat, maybe things would have been different.
And don't judge, at least she's being honest.
Nina frowned. "What's wrong?"
Inside of every girl, Lucy had told her, there is a Bitch. Find her, Sammie, and you will unlock centuries of womanhood, binding you eternally to the female race.
How do I find her? Sammie had asked, wide-eyed.
Lucy put a gentle hand on her young padawan's shoulder. She will come when you need her, she'd answered sagely. She will come when there is no one else to come. Now who's up for ice cream?
Sammie closed her eyes. Inner Bitch, she prayed, I need you now.
And the Inner Bitch, just like Lucy promised, came.
"What's wr-ong?" Sammie asked, pronouncing "wrong" as if it had two syllables. "Girl, do you think I'm gonna just set your man-eating ass on my only favorite brother? You are out of your mind. Straight up crazy. Dean wouldn't touch you if he had a twenty-foot, sanitized, money-back-guaranteed pole while he was wearing disinfectant gloves. I don't how your mother taught you to behave, but girl, someone needs to set you straight."
Nina's eyes narrowed. "You have no idea who you're messing with," she growled.
"Bitch," Sammie laughed. "Puh-lease."
With a battle cry, Nina raised the knife.
Sammie curled her upper lip.
Oh, bitch, it was game time.