Welcome to Gaia! ::

Dean drove down the open stretch of road, his window open letting in the warm summer air. Sam sat in the passenger seat, telling him about a man who had been found in his car, his insides ripped out.
"What do you think it is?" Dean questioned, barely looking at Sam.
"Not sure yet, figure we'll do some research, see if the town has any local legends or violent history."

After paying, the boys left. They spotted a couple uniformed men standing outside of the courthouse, shooting the breeze.
"So how do you suppose we go about this one?" Sam asked as they approached the steps of the courthouse.
"Just follow my lead." he whispered and then when he reached the men,
"Good afternoon, I was wondering if I could ask you a question." Dean started. Then men looked at him and Sam.
"Ok." the larger one replied.
"Well, you see my brother here was considering starting his law career here in Polkston, but he, or rather both of us, were curious about the town's crime history." Dean said.
"A lawyer?" the other man asked, looking Sam up and down, assuming he wasn't going into law enforcement.
"Yes, sir. Most likely a public defender of sorts, figured I should find out all I could about the crime of this town." The man thought for a second.
"Ok, boys, I think I could show you something."

Sam and Dean walked out. Sam was holding on to the folder.

"That was weird." Dean commented as they walked back to the Impala.

"And when is our job not weird?" Dean thought for a second.

"True. So, what's in the folder." Slipping into the passenger seat, while Dean started the engine, Sam opened the folder and started to read the contents.

The boys discovered that court employees didn't get out of work until 4:30, so until then they wandered the town, or rather Dean hung out at the town's main gathering place, the diner, while Sam headed off to the library, just to see if he could maybe find something.

By the time 4:30 rolled around, Sam and Dean were waiting for the secretary to come out. Sam had convinced Dean to let him do most of the talking, pointing out that the lady was probably more willing to listen to a man talking with his upstairs brain, rather than his downstairs one.

At precisely 4:40 a woman dressed in black top, a black leather jacket, and dark jeans came walking out of the courthouse. Her long, brown hair came down over her shoulders and the top of her head seemed to glow, but it was only the sun shining down.

"Uh, excuse me, miss." Sam started as he stepped up to her, he had to nudge Dean slightly to step up with him.

"You're the brothers from earlier aren't you?" she questioned in a hushed tone.

"Yeah, I'm Sam Loften and this is my older brother Dean." he said introducing them.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Carlee Hampden. I'm Judge Marken's secretary."

"Mighty young to just be a secretary aren't you?" Dean questioned in his usual cocky tone. She only grinned.

"Yeah, I guess, but it pays for the law school bills." He gave her a shocked look.

"Um, Miss Hampden...." "Call me Carlee, please." "Ok, Carlee, we wanted to ask you about what you know about what happened." he questioned holding up the file she'd given them.

Both Sam and Dean took a minute to reply which only seemed to make Carlee exasperated, "Look I know how it sounds but she's always reading about all this herb stuff and I really think she thinks she is one."

"You think she was involved with the murder?," Dean asked.

Carlee ran a set of fingers through her hair, "I don't know - she came home that night, and her pants were stained with blood - she was ranting about calling it in to the police but only after cleansing the spot."

Sam shook his head, "How old is your sister?"

"Fifteen."

Dean let out a sigh, "Listen Carlee, maybe she thinks she's one of the Witches of Eastwick or whatever but that doesn't mean she actually is one. In our experience - witches are of a more older nature-"

"And usually a lot more evil tahn I think even a fiteen year old girl could be," Sam interupted.

Carlee seemed unsure but then spoke up, "Wait a minute, in you're line of work - you've met witches?"

Carlee had agreed to their propostion of talking to her sister and within the hour they were sitting in her living room, waiting for her sister to come home from a friend's.

After continued silence, Dean spoke up, "So where are your parents?"

Carlee fumbled with her fingers then looked up at them, "Died. Three years ago. Car accident."

Dean stiffened a bit, "Sorry - we can understand."

Carlee brushed it off though, "That's okay - we try not to dwell on it mostly . . ."

Sam interupted to help change the subject, "Is that when she started to practice witchcraft?"

Carlee nodded and Sam couldn't help but put his own two cents in, "Maybe she's a wiccan - it's just not the same as witchcraft. At least I doubt she's anything like the witches we've encountered."

It was then that they heard the front door open and a young teenage girl stepped in. She stopped when she realised she didn't recognize the men sitting in her living room and she looked over at Carlee, "What's going on? I thought an intervention usually involved people I knew."

Carlee stood up, fallowed by Sam and Dean, "Cassie - they're here to talk about your involvement with that man's accident."

Cassie threw down her back pack and stepped down into the living room. She eyed them for a moment, then crossed her arms over her chest, "Oh now you actually believe me?"

Carlee looked exasperated but she remained calm, "I knew something happened Cassie - but I didn't know that it had to do with your spells until I read the autopsy report - what did you do to that man?"

Cassie's eyes widened and she laughed nervously, "What I did to him?! I tried to help him - but there was so much blood and he was gone. I did the only thing I could do for the area by trying to balance all the negative energy with the herbs I had on me."

Carlee stood up, anger apparant on her face, "Cassie a man died! And all you could think about was blessing the area?!"

Cassie breathed heavily through her nostrils, her tight lips sealed shut with a temper that was flaring inside her, "Well maybe if someone had blessed the site where Mom and Dad died I wouldn't have these nightmares!"

She turned and stormed upstairs before anything else could be said and Carlee fell back into the chair - mentally exhausted. She sank her forehead into her palms and sighed, "I'm sorry you had to see that."

Sam tried to reach out to her though, "We've been there - can we try to talk to her?"

Carlee looked up, tears welling up in her eyes and tried to smile, "Sure."

Cassie moved aside and the boys entered the dark lit room. Sam nudged Dean's arm for his attention to the left of them - to a small altar.

Cassie noticed their wandering eyes and upon fallowing their direction, smiled, "I thought you guys understood this stuff."

Sam shook his head, "Understand it - yeah. Get it? No. If you knew the real life witches we met, you'd think twice about it."

Cassie sat down at her computer desk and opened the drawer. Dean stepped closer and watched as she pulled a stiff wrapped purple scarf out from it. She carefully unwrapped the bundle and pulled out an athamea - a sacrificial knife used in many wiccan ceromonies - it was covered in dried blood, "I'll tell you what happened that night."