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"Okay," The tattoo artist, a young woman covered with tattoos herself, said, "I'm not sure what it is, but it's done."
Wynonna leapt down, showing pulling back her shirt to show the intricate design to Sam. "Matching tattoos, we must really be a couple."
Given all the recent events, Sam and Charlie both agreed it was a good idea for the Earp sisters to get anti-possession tattoos.
"It looks great on you," Sam said, before turning towards Waverly, "Waves, your turn."
Waverly slowly got up into the seat, "Do I really have to get it on my chest?"
"Anywhere will work." Sam answered.
"Where do you want, hon?" The artist asked.
"Um," Waverly mused, deliberating, "How about here?" She pointed to her upper arm, "Or you think that would make me look like a biker?"
"Honey, nowadays everyone has tattoos anywhere they want," The artist informed her, "It'll look just fine."
Waverly closed her eyes and the needle started.
As they watched her get her tattoo, both Wynonna and Sam were worried about the youngest Earp. Since the incident a few days before Waverly had been quiet, only speaking when spoken to, and she'd get this far-off look in her eye, like she was stuck in a memory.
Afterwards, they were both in the kitchen, and Wynonna finally spoke. "Waves, can I talk to you?"
"Sure," Waverly agreed walking over so that she was a few feet away from her sister.
"Waves, you know the world isn't black and white, right?" Wynonna began, "I mean, sure, Sam's done some questionable crap-to put it mildly, but we've all done some ducked up shit we're not proud of. Even you at one point, probably. Granted, probably not to that degree, but-"
"It's not Sam." Waverly cut her off.
"Then what is it?" Wynonna asked.
Because I've seen that sometimes great scarifies have to be made. Because a knot forms in my stomach every time I think about what you and Sam might give up. But for some reason, she couldn’t articulate what she was feeling. So instead she ran from the room.
"Waverly!" Wynonna called out, "Come back! Waverly!"
As she ran Waverly rushed past Sam, who was just walking in the house. "You okay?"
"Yeas." Waverly said freezing on the stairs, "I'm fine, everything is fine." Then she ran up the stairs.
I don't think so. Sam thought to himself heading up behind her.
By the time Sam had disappeared into her room. He walked into the doorway, and saw her sitting at her desk, pretending to go through her flies. She looked up when she felt his presence. "I'm fine." She repeated, "Really."
"Waves, people who are just fine don't run away like that." Sam responded.
"I'm just...having a rough time processing." Waverly admitted, "It's not you, please don't think that. It's just...I don't know how to explain it."
"It's okay." Sam assured, "You don't have to talk until you're ready."
"Thanks, Sam," Waverly replied, "But that's not now."
Realizing that it was hopeless, Sam walked down the hallway towards the spear room he and Charlie was now sharing.
To his surprise and slight worry, he found Charlie in the middle of the room, which was now sprawled with papers, maps, books, and newspapers, one which Charlie was in the middle of right now, so engrossed she didn't even notice his presence.
"Charlie." Sam spoke up worriedly, "Whatcha up to?"
"Looking for Cas." Charlie answered, "It might help us get Dean back. Cause you know, angels can bring people back from the dead? You did it once with me, I'm surprised you didn't try it the second time I died. Actually, I think I might have found something."
Sam's heart sunk as he knew where this was heading. "Charlie-
"This John Doe was arrested for a drunk and disorderly in this town in Montana," Charlie continued, not letting Sam get a word in edgewise, "The description kind of sounds like Cas. He was always kind of- odd, and given whatever he's gone through after crazy tea and crumpets lady zapped him-well, wherever he went- I can see how someone might make that mistake.”
"Charlie-" Sam tried again.
"He's on a 48 phystriactic hold," Charlie continued, "But we have to get driving now if we want to make the window-"
"Charlie!" Sam repeated, raising his voice.
"What?" Charlie asked.
"We can't leave." Sam told her, "We have work to do here, or at least I have work to do here."
"What work?" Charlie demanded.
"The Earp curse, the Revenants." Sam replied, "I can't just pick up and leave everything."
Charlie picked up one of the books as she screamed, "Why not?!" throwing it at Sam, who barely ducked out of the way in time. It hit the wall instead. "We don't know these people, we don't owe them anything, and this could help us get Dean back! Something brought me back, and we can do the same for him."
"It’s not the same thing, Charlie." Sam tried to tell her.
"We need to leave." Charlie said, starting to back, "Dean needs us, he needs to know that we are trying to find a way to get him back."
"It's not that simple, Charlie," Sam began, "Look, remember what I told you about the Darkness."
"Yeah, God's bat-crazy sister, tried to take out God-" Charlie began.
"She succeeded in taking out God." Sam corrected, "And Dean made himself the bomb, to take her out to keep the balance and prevent the sun from going out. Dean scarified himself for the world and I am going to honor his wishes. We're not gonna make the same mistake that cost use Kevin and you. Before he died God gave us a gift here, and I'm not gonna ask why or how it happened. Dean is dead, but we need to keep fighting. God sent me here to help people and the Earps need help. Look, I can take you anywhere you want for a fresh start, anywhere at all. Even Montana, if you want."
She shook her head. "If you're staying, I'm staying. That's our job, right? Saving people, haunting things."
She walked over to Sam, tentively putting her hands around his upper torso. Sam pulled her in as she started to bawl like small child. "It's okay." He whispered to her, "It's all gonna be okay."
It was then Sam knew what he had to do.
The next morning, Sam walked up to Wynonna desk. "Hey, Wynonna," He began nervously; "There's something I want to talk to you about."
"Okay, what?" Wynonna asked.
"Um," Sam began, putting his laptop on the desk, "I found reports of this haunted law office down in the town of Ratwater, nothing too dangerous objects being moved, people in old-timed garb who disappear, the most violent thing that happened was a thrown figurine-"
"And you want to go check it out." Wynonna guessed.
"Yeah," Sam confirmed, "And I want to take Waverly with me."
Wynonna froze. "That ain 't happening."
"Look, as far as hunts go, this is pretty low risk," Sam said, "No one's even died yet-"
"Didn't you say this thing threw a figurine at someone?" Wynonna challenged, "I can't let Waverly into danger especially given everything that just went down."
"But that's exactly why she should go," Sam reasoned, "She needs a break and she's probably going out of her mind over what happened with Lucifer. Seeing the things that have happened with me- it's enough to rattle anyone. Look, I promise, I'll protect her, and its help her get rid of this helpless feeling she has."
Wynonna paused for a moment. "Sam, what was it like in the cage?"
"Not fun." Sam replied looking away.
"Okay, she can go." Wynonna relented, "But if anything happens to her, anything at all, even so much as a sprained ankle-"
Sam silenced her with a kiss on the cheek. "It won't."
As Sam, Charlie and Waverly road to Ratwater, Sam told him about the case.
"So apparently back in 1962, Sheriff Dan MacIver was killed my inmate in the jail," Sam replied, "Shortly after they moved because conditions were unsafe. Then last month Teen Challenge bought it and started renovating for a new thrift store. This was the same time workers started reporting tools being moved, and when a shipment of donated stuff was brought to the office, an invisible force three an angel statue against the wall. Then people started to report seeing Dan MacIver."
"Did they catch the imamate that killed him?" Charlie asked, "Could he be looking for revenge?"
"Um, actually they did catch him," Sam replied, "Carl Miscavige. Apparently, they found him on his way to his ex-wife's place with the same paper-weight he used to kill MacIver. He died in prison back in the 90s."
"Then why is he still here?" Waverly asked.
"That's what we're here to find out." Sam confirmed.
The first place they went to was the foreman, a board-shouldered man named Josh Carter.
"And you have actually seen the man?" Sam asked.
"Yeah," Josh replied, "Most of my men have at this point."
"And what exactly happened?" Sam continued.
"I'm working in the cells, and Michael Johnson comes running up to me screaming his head up, saying he's seen him." Josh began, "Now, I had about how enough of this, so I took him back there, and sure enough, Dan MacIver's standing there, as sure as I'm talking to you three."
"How did you know it was Dan MacIver?" Waverly spoke up.
"Occam's razor," Josh reasoned, "And as weird as it sounds, in this case, the simplest answer is a dead guy."
"And was MacIver-doing anything, saying anything?" Sam asked.
"I think he was saying something about someone named Leda." Josh replied.
"Leda?" Sam repeated.
"Yeah, Leda." Josh confirmed, "Are you really gonna shut down the job over this?"
"Probably not." Sam said, standing up, "Just something we have to look into, as ridiculous as that sounds. Thank you for your time, Mr. Carter."
They talked to a few more men and they all seemed to tell the same story. MacIver seemed to be franticly searching for someone named Leda. Wanting a little more confirmation, they decided to actually go to the office.
With all issues had been having, not much work had been done and it stilled looked like a police station. Sam slid an EMF reader over the desk. "Nothing here."
Noticing something on the ground, Waverly picked it up. It was little statue of an angel kneeling in prayer, its left wing broken. I guess this is the knick-knack that MacIver didn't like.
"Hey, Waverly," Charlie, who had her own EMF reader called out, "You want to take the back with me?"
"Sure," Waverly replied, following her, "So how does that thing work?"
"It measures frequencies that are made by ghost," Charlie explained, scanning the rooms, "Unless you're using it by telephone lines it usually works pretty well."
As Charlie went into a more drawn-out explanation, Waverly heard something down the adjacent hallway. She peaked down it. "Hello?" She called out, "Hello, anyone there?"
Thinking she heard it again, she took a few steps into the hallway. "Sheriff MacIver?" She asked softly.
Suddenly a figure stepped out of the shadows, revealing a young man with short brown hair, holding shotgun.
"Charlie!" Waverly called out, scared and bit afraid, "Sam!"
"It's okay," The young man said quickly, "I come in peace."
"Then what are you doing with a gun?" Waverly challenged.
"You have one, too!" The young man retorted.
Waverly looked down and remembered she did in fact have a riffle loaded with rock salt. "Oh," She said, "So, I do. But my only has rock salt in."
"So, does mine!" The young man replied.
Just then Charlie and Sam appeared. "I just looked down the hallway and this guy was here." She pointed to the boy in the hallway.
"Who the hell are you?" Sam demanded, pulling out a gun with real bullets in it.
Just there was the sound of footsteps in the hallway. Soon three other men came into view. One was dark-skinned with a shaved head, the other had dark-brown hair, and a somewhat angry face, and the forth was wearing glasses. "You?!" The bespectled the one exclaimed.
Sam lowered his gun. "Ed?" He asked, "Harry?"
"You know these guys?" Waverly and Charlie exclaimed almost simultaneously.
Sam eyes glanced over the band. "Two of them at least."