Worshiped like Winchesters
Disclaimer: I own neither Charmed nor Supernatural. I do own a CD with songs from Supernatural though, that I am listening to right now. "It's the heat of the moment…" (I do not own Asia or their songs either.)
A/n: After a long enough wait, here it is! I've finally started fleshing out the sequel to my first SPN/Chrmd fic. I'm really excited for this fic! I have so many ideas written down and planned that I can't wait for everyone to see. I hope people enjoy this one as much as they did WiW. And I totally did not mean to make both stories start with a "w". The title for this one just came to me one night and I had to use it; it was perfect. So here we go, on to chapter 1!
Chapter 1: Did you get anything? Yeah, frostbite.
Sam sat alone at the bar, an open, but untouched beer in front of him. He had not even taken a sip of his alcohol and yet he felt the throbbing migraine that only a thorough hangover could produce. Too bad his head forgot that the getting drunk part happens before the getting sick part. If only Sam Winchester was lucky enough to have consumed enormous amounts of alcohol the night before, unfortunately this hangover was caused by fitful sleeping and frightening nightmares.
The hunter pressed his fingers to his forehead, attempting to massage some of the pain away. Lingering images from his dreams began to fade into the back of his mind and some of the throbbing dulled. He was able to open his eyes and vaguely concentrate on the activity around him.
He spotted Dean near the stage at the back of the bar; the older Winchester was charming a young brunette in red. From the body language of the two people, Sam deduced that his brother's tricks were paying off. The brothers locked eyes for a second and Dean winked before focusing his attention back to the brunette. Sam finally took a sip of his beer, smirking.
Twenty minutes later, the stool next to Sam became occupied. Dean Winchester was grinning in a supremely satisfied way.
"Now that was an entirely enjoyable conversation right there," Dean told Sam. He pulled a small slip of paper from his leather jacket and dangled the brunette's phone number in front of Sam. "How about you, Mr. Warm and Fuzzy, any luck?"
"Dean," started Sam.
"Let me guess, nothing. Come on Sammy-boy. We just finished up a hunt and now we're here to celebrate. Let yourself go a bit. Get some numbers. Meet some chicks. You need to release some stress; sex is the best medicine for that."
"Dean."
"Don't look at me like some pitiful charity case. What is going on with you Sam?"
"I've been having these dreams lately…"
"Don't. Stop right there, Sam. I don't wanna hear anything about some crazy psychic visions you've been having. So shut up, have a beer, and let's try to pretend you're normal for once. Well, as normal as our lives can get anyway."
"But Dean, these aren't like the other things I've seen. These are intense, end-of-the-world type images. I keep seeing powerful creatures, ancient battles, and bodies lying in the sand. I don't think we can afford to ignore these visions. Dean, we have to do something."
"Well, do these 'visions' tell you a name or place where all this Armageddon stuff is gonna go down?"
"The only thing I can see clear enough is the name of some museum in San Francisco. I wrote it down the first time I had the dream." Sam sticks his hands in the pockets of his large jacket and rifles around for a bit until he pulls out a scrap of paper from his left pocket. "Here. de Young Museum." He hands the sheet, ripped from a page of motel stationary, to his brother.
The eldest Winchester glanced at his brother's scribbles. "Let me guess, you've already looked up the address too."
"Didn't have to," replied Sam. "I've been to the place before. I had to do some research there for one of my classes."
"Aren't you just the big man on campus."
"Dean, I went Stanford Law." Sam knew he may not have been the most important student on that campus, but he knew he was smart enough to be the 'big man in the bar'.
"Yeah, yeah. We both know about your big success at Harvard."
"Stanford."
"I know. I remember exactly where you ran off to when you wanted to escape dad and me, Sammy."
"…Not you Dean, just dad…and the job. But now that he's dead…"
"You can escape him forever," Dean interrupted his brother's train of thought.
Sam sighed. "Let's not do this right now, Dean. My head already hurts enough as it is."
"What? Little Sammy can't hold his liquor?"
This time the younger hunter decided to ignore the latest remark thrown his way. Dean noticed the way his brother reacted to his words so Dean let it go and moved the conversation in a different direction.
"Alright," he declared. "We'll do it."
"You mean you're actually listening to me? We're going to California?"
"We'll go…After, I show that brunette the night of her young life. I am definitely getting me a piece of that cherry pie."
"Dean," but Sam's brother simply smirked at him and walked off to meet the girl in the red dress.
Wyatt threw another sheet of paper down on the coffee table in front of him. A rapidly growing pile of bills and other important documents was sitting in the conservatory with the eldest Halliwell. He would glance over one sheet, reading the meaningful bits, and then he would set it down to pick up the next one. Sitting on the couch beside him, Chris went through the bills just like his brother.
"Did you see this bill for the new air conditioning unit at the club?" Chris waved the document at Wyatt. The older witch nodded his head.
"It cost us a pretty penny, sure, but P3 really needed it. The place isn't as young as it use to be, and how are we suppose to book big name talent if they start to melt as soon as they begin performing?" remarked Wyatt.
"Well mom's restaurant has been doing extremely well recently," Chris said, "maybe we can use some of the extra profit for some renovations for the club."
"Sounds good." Another sheet went into the pile.
Just then, the youngest of the three siblings shuffled into the room. Despite the usual climate, heat and humidity, Melinda Halliwell had wrapped herself in long, plaid pants and a solid, white lone-sleeved shirt. Her brothers were able to see her shivering through the warm material though, and this caused them to worry. She walked over to them and flung herself down on the couch, wilting into the cushions. Wyatt and Chris shared a look, speaking with their eyes (a talent the two brothers had fostered into mere perfection throughout their childhood) to say that one of them needed to ask Melinda what was going on.
"Morning sunshine," Chris started. "You do know it's sunny out, right? We live in San Francisco where the temperature rarely goes below 75 degrees at this time of year."
"Why do you look so cold, Mel? Are you coming down with something?" Wyatt voiced both his and his brother's actually concerns.
Another shiver and a sigh escaped the female witch. "I woke up so drenched in sweat that I was freezing and shivering, so if these clothes keep me warm enough until I can make it into a hot shower then so be it."
"Is your room that hot? We haven't had any trouble with the heat," said Wyatt.
"No, I'm not sweating from the heat. It's these nightmares I've been having lately. Premonitions that wake me up in the middle of the night, my body in a cold sweat. Images of sand and heat, blood and battles."
Chris looked even more worried when his sister told them what was actually going on with her. "What do you think these visions are trying to tell you?"
"That something big is coming our way."
"That doesn't sound good," put in the eldest Halliwell.
Chris agreed. "When you see trouble, with our luck, you usually find big trouble."
"It comes with the legacy." Melinda sighed again. "Even though I can only get a hazy sense of what is what during my nightmares, I can definitely be certain of one thing. All of the images are centered on one place, Egypt. Something is coming and it has to do with either something from Egypt or someone."
"Egypt? Are you sure?" Wyatt asked. His younger sister nodded, wrapping her arms around herself a little tighter.
"So, what?" was Chris' response. "We orb on over to Africa and dig for clues?" The middle Halliwell may have been a bit more willing to jump into anything out of the ordinary that came into their lives, but he was always sure to be practical in his jumping.
Melinda finally took this chance to warm her face up with a smile; the brothers took this as an indicator that she knew something she could not wait to share.
"There's really no need to travel to Egypt, since Egypt has already travelled to us," a quizzical answer to Chris' questions. "The local museum just brought in a new exhibit that explores all the wonders of Egypt, past and present. I was thinking less orbing and more, time for an extra informative self-guided fieldtrip," explained the young witch.
A collective shudder went through the Underworld when three Halliwell's started smiling.
To be continued…
A/n: So just got back from a nice relaxing vacation in the Florida sun. I'm feeling quite refreshes and recharged. School is only a few weeks away and I can see work getting closer and closer to being done with. And since I'm feeling so fantastic the sequel to Witch in White gets to finally be published, starting with chapter 1, which I hope everyone just enjoyed. My plan for the rest of the summer is to update on Thursdays. It may not be every Thursday, but it should at least be every other Thursday. If you do not see a new chapter on a Thursday, don't fret. I also usually have Saturdays free and may be in the mood to do more fleshing out and updating on those days. I hope everyone continues to enjoy and leave their more than lovely comments.
Be seeing you on the other side of the rain,
-ROMS