Title:
Memory In Motion
Chapter
Title: Ranidaphobic and More
Author:
Restive Nature
Disclaimer:
I do not own the rights
to BtVS. They belong to Whedon & Mutant Enemy. I also do not own
the rights to Supernatural. They belong to Eric Kripke and The CW.
Rating:
PG-15
Genre:
Crossover
Type:
Humor, Angst
Pairing:
DaddyDean/ WeeWillow
Summary:
Through a magical mix-up, Willow ends up in the Impala, disoriented,
terrified, facing the barrel of a gun and somehow... only six years
old.
Spoilers/
Time line: Post series for Buffy and late season one of Supernatural.
Feedback:
Always welcome!
Distribution:
Ask first please.
A/N:
This is a challenge response to pezgirl's The Little Demon Hunting
Challenge at the Twisting the Hellmouth site. Please refer to chapter
one for challenge details.
Memory
In Motion
Chapter
Eight
Ranidaphobic
And More
Dinner
that night, was had only after Bobby had performed a few
surreptitious tests on the girl to make sure that a clear case of
possession wasn't happening. He had kind of smiled to realize that
Willow had already come to expect that she had to have a drink of
water whenever she met someone that the boys knew. That Sam and Dean
had taken some as well was good too and he had indulged Willow's
desire to drink some of his stash of holy water. That proved to all
of them that they were all cool. Kid was smart, he could see that
already. In fact, she sort of reminded him of a young Sammy, which
was why he knew right away the first, maybe main reason that Dean was
determined to, if not help her, at least protect her from what was
going on.
If
he could see it from a mile off, then he could only imagine what this
was like for Dean. Sam seemed a bit oblivious to the vibe between the
girl and the older Winchester boy. Which was a startling realization
for Bobby. Bit of a role reversal for the boys.
There
were a few more tests that Bobby had and while startled that Willow
knew the names of all the crystals in his collection, he didn't show
any overt dismay. It was just more information that went into the
mental file he was creating. She even told him a few properties of
one of his newer crystals that he hadn't had time to familiarize
himself with. He dutifully wrote it down to check into, having a few
contacts that would either back up the research or give him something
else.
And
then it was time to eat and Bobby was grateful that the boys had
brought something. Honestly, he wasn't the best cook and though he
had been married at one time, kids had never been on his radar. He
knew well enough that they were just little people that eventually
grew up. That was obvious. But he'd seen so many examples, both good
and bad, to know that you never knew what you were gonna get in a
child's temperament. It was often times, that bad behavior existed
with good kids, just because of typical reasons. Tiredness,
frustration, bad moods, same as adults were several that he could
think of. Just had to handle them a little differently. But if the
Winchester family drove him occasionally around the bend as so-called
functioning, rational adults, he was pretty sure he'd not be able to
handle the girl on his own.
Though
if he'd verbalized any of that out loud, the boys would have been on
his ass for not believing in himself as a role model faster than you
could say Kentucky Fried.
As
they ate, Willow regaled them with another tall tale about a giant
spider that like to eat school boys. It sounded suspiciously to the
males like she might have seen a Stephen King movie or two. Or maybe
it was wishful thinking on her part for some bullying type of kids.
They didn't make a large issue of it though. When they were finished
eating, Bobby sent Willow to the bathroom to wash her hands and brush
her teeth with the supplies Dean had bought. The boys started helping
clean up the table and the conversation began.
“So
she just poofed into your car?” Bobby asked immediately. Dean
nodded as he carried his paper plate to the garbage, as well as
Willow's.
“Flash
of light, there she was, freaked the hell out,” he confirmed.
“Well,”
Bobby sighed, settling his cheek on his fist as he leaned on the
table where he was seated. “She's not possessed, as far as I can
see.”
“So
where the heck is all this knowledge coming from?” Sam wondered as
he stuffed the few leftovers of salad into the refrigerator.
“Got
me, boy,” Bobby barked. “For as many magic spells or rituals that
I know about, there are hundreds more out there. And that's just
what's already been done and written down somewhere. Or passed along
verbally. Anything a witch asks for, if they ask the right way, of
the right deity, they can get. Who knows if we're dealin' with a- a
magical receptacle here or something.”
“A
receptacle?” Dean asked. “You mean an actual witch did... what?”
“Asked
for an info dump of knowledge and it got into Willow,” Bobby
mentioned one of the many possible ideas that had already run through
his mind as to what might have happened, “whether intentionally or
by accident. These things aren't that predictable boy.”
“So
what do we do?” Dean sighed. Bobby shrugged.
“Maybe
instead we can talk about something else that needs taking care of,”
Sam suggested, looking between the two. When they glanced at him, he
arched his eyebrow at his brother. “The Orb of Thessulan,” he
prompted.
“Thessulah?
The clerics of the spirit realm?” Bobby corrected automatically, as
well as asking and Sam spared him another arched look. “Thessulan
is the collective noun of the group at large,” he explained and
immediately after that, “you've got one? What the hell for?”
“Uh,
Willow summoned it,” Dean hedged. “To put the spirit of the
shtrigu in, which is apparently the gender appropriate word for it,
so that it couldn't possess someone else.”
“Well
that was smart,” Bobby offered a rare, for him, compliment. “But
what was she planning on doing with it?”
“We're
not sure,” Sam sighed as he returned to his seat. “and I'd like
to get that dealt with right away. The thing is...” he trailed off
and made a face, rubbing at his stomach. “It doesn't make you feel
good. Started turning Willow's hair black.”
“You
sure it was the shtriga, shtrigu,” Bobby corrected himself, seeing
instantly how the verb tense changed from female to male. He eyed
both the boys, his eyes darting back and forth. “There've been
reports that that's one of the symptoms of evil visibly bleeding over
into a witch. Turning them as dark on the outside as they are on the
inside.”
“What
are the other symptoms?” Dean asked quietly.
“Black
hair, black eyes, black veins,” Bobby reeled off the list and while
Dean held his breath, Sam shook his head.
“There
was just some darkness, at the roots,” he explained, gesturing with
his fingers at his hairline, what he had seen. “Her eyes were fine,
no black veins,” he grimaced at that thought. “And it only
happened when she was pulling the spirit into the orb. It went away
as soon as the thing was fully in the orb.”
“Maybe
it was the shtrigu tryin' to influence her,” Dean suggested as an
alternate speculation. Bobby simply shrugged.
“Okay,
so I need to research Thessulan rituals then?” Bobby noted, but
they were prevented from answering when Willow returned.
“The
ritual is done,” she told the older hunter. “The spirit is
trapped. The rest of the ritual is for returning the spirit to a
living entity, which we don't want to do. It needs to be released
into a void from which it can't return and where it can harm no
other.”
Bobby
blinked several times before crossing his arms over his chest and
asking of her, “so what do you suggest?”
“Probably
Annwn would be best,” she mused as Bobby nodded
slowly. The Winchester's simply looked confused. “There's a passage
in Arcaibh that's thin enough this time of year.” And as quickly as
that, the knowledgeable Willow was gone and the little girl was still
waiting, biting at her lower lip. “Is that okay?”
“That's
perfect,” Bobby assured her. “Makes sense too.”
“It
did?” Dean asked. Noting his confusion mirrored his own, Sam smiled
at the girl and glanced out the window.
“Willow,
there's still some day light out,” he explained. “Why don't you
go play outside for a little bit. Get all that stiffness out from
sitting in the car all day.”
“O-okay,”
she hesitated and Dean rubbed at her shoulder.
“The
dog's tied up, it won't get loose,” he assured her. And she nodded
and reaffirmed her assent, albeit in a stronger voice the second
time. She slipped out of the room and a moment later, they heard the
dog begin to bark in excitement.
“Good
for nothing idjit,” Bobby growled and when the boys looked to him,
added, “the dog.”
The look of relief that crossed their
faces was almost comical.
“So what was that she was saying?”
Dean wanted to know. They could clearly hear Willow outside trying to
talk to the dog, but it just made Rumsfeld bark harder.
“Annwn,” Bobby repeated. “Welsh
name for the spirit world or otherworld, where restless spirits are
sent. Can't get out of it unless the spirit can convince someone else
to take their place, but after a short time, they aren't much capable
of retaining their semblance of self. It's about the best option I
could see. Don't want to send it downstairs, cause there'd be all
sorts of jockeys willing to ride it back up.”
“And Arcaibh?” Sam wanted to know.
It tickled at his mind, sound Gaelic. He was glad to know he was on
the money with that one.
“Ancient Gaelic,” Bobby grunted.
“Original name of the Orkney Isles in Scotland. Should've
remembered that. There's a portal through there and if what she said
was right, the veil parting the two worlds is at it's thinnest around
this time of year.”
“Okay, well that works out,” Dean
grimaced, rubbing at his ear as the dog's barking and Willow's yelp
reached his ears. “Now the question of getting it to Scotland.”
“Have to either find a ritual to
take care of that,” Bobby agreed, “or on the other hand, find
someone knowledgeable enough in Scotland to take care of it for us.”
He sat and thought for a moment before throwing up his hands. “I've
got no one.”
“Okay,” Sam nodded, reaching for a
pad of paper and a pen from a nearby counter. “So we'll need to
research the ritual if Willow doesn't already know it.”
“An' if she does,” Bobby added,
“I'll research it anyways. I know she sounds knowledgeable, but
kids can mess things up in their own minds sometimes. Hell, I've seen
plenty of adults do it too.”
“That's fine,” Dean grunted and
then swiveled in his seat to glare at the back door. “What in the
hell is that dog still barking for?” he growled.
“Calm down Dean,” Bobby sighed.
“He's just excited. First time he's had a kid out here in... well,
ever. He always barks when someone's coming.”
And that was when they heard the
scream.
“Or something,” Bobby breathed out
as every single male in that house scrambled for the door, weapons
drawn, those that had them, namely Dean and Bobby.
The scene that greeted them was a
little chaotic, as Willow was frozen as still as a statue, except for
her screams piercing the air, while Rumsfeld was acting like he was
having a seizure. Their eyes scanned for the danger, not knowing
where it could be coming from and when Dean snapped out the girls
name, trying to get her to be quiet, she came out of her frozen state
and dashed straight to Sam.
She pretty much climbed straight up
his legs until he caught her in his arms, circling them protectively
around her.
“Get her inside,” Bobby barked at
the boy as Willow began to cry.
“It touched me!” she wailed. “It
touched meeee!”
Dean, his heart clenching in his chest
as he swept the perimeter with his eyes, noted that his brother had
already whirled and had dashed into the house and if the kid knew
what was good for him, would be layin' down the salt lines if Bobby
didn't have them already. But while he continued to search for the
threat, Bobby was concentrating on the dog.
“Rumsfeld!” he growled, “drop
it!” Dean turned to look at the dog, who gave one more shake of his
head and then dropped, of all things, a frog, to the ground. The
animal, pushing at the dead amphibian with his nose, then settled to
his haunches and looked up at his owner, obviously proud of himself.
Bobby approached and patted the dog on his head. “Good boy.” He
toed the frog with his boot and then kicked it away, the lifeless
creature flopping disjointedly through the air in its flight. “Shit,”
he breathed out and turned to move back to the house. “She's
ranidaphobic.”
“Ranida-what?” Dean demanded as
the gun in his hand was finally lowered. He hurried after the older
man into the house, back to the kitchen to see Willow clinging around
Sam's neck, unable to do more that gibber in terror.
“It's gone Willow,” Bobby assured
her. It seemed to make no difference and Bobby quickly whispered what
he'd already told Dean outside and Sam nodded immediately. But his
brother noticed that Dean was still a little lost and spoke up.
“She's terrified of frogs, Dean,”
Sam explained and just the word alone set her off even more. Dean,
finally understanding, nodded and settled his gun back in the
waistband of his pants as he moved to the kitchen counter.
“You got an empty spray bottle,
Bobby?” he asked. The older hunter eyed him for a minute and then
mentally shrugged.
“Bottom cupboard,” he directed.
“under the sink.”
Dean found it immediately and then
found Bobby's stash of holy water. “Hang on honey,” he urged
Willow who was now simply reduced to whimpering. “I know how to get
rid of it. Just need to find... Aha!” He was rummaging through one
of Bobby's upper cabinet's and pulled out a bottle of extract. He
carefully measured out both water and extract in the bottle and they
could all spell the minty aroma as soon as he opened the extract.
“Just a second,” he added as he put the spray cap back on and
gave the bottle a good shake. He turned back to the girl and showed
her the bottle.
“Frog yuck remover,” he explained.
“Now, show me where it got you?”
Seemingly unconvinced, Willow
nevertheless showed Dean the area of her foot where the frog had
jumped, landing on her. He sprayed it down thoroughly and then took
her from Sam to sit in on another chair. With her now on his lap, he
seemed to examine the area, taking his time to give it a thorough
going over..
“Sam, could you grab my green duffel
bag from the trunk?” he asked quietly. Sam, unsure as to where his
brother was going with this, did as he was asked. When he returned,
his brother was giving Willow another squirt of the so called 'yuck
remover', on her hands, this time.
“Okey, dokey,” Dean grunted as he
reached for the bag Sam had settled on the table. It was difficult
with one hand. “Could you grab the black light?” With a slight
grin that he quickly hid, Sam did as he was asked and handed the
small wand light to his brother. He held it up before Willow and told
her. “Have you seen one of these before?” The girl, still mute,
nodded. “When you turn it on, it shows you all sorts of secret
things. Like how white glows and cat pee and also, froggy yuckies.”
The girl cracked a slight, very slight smile as Dean switched it on.
He passed it over the white sleeve of her shirt and she turned her
arm underneath it, mesmerized. And then he slowly passed it down over
her legs to her feet. And miraculously, in Willow's mind at least,
the frog yuckies, were completely gone.
“How did you do that?” the girl
breathed out. Dean gave her a wink and handed her the black light to
play with.
“Magic,”
he teased. Willow giggled again as he tickled
her tummy and then set her down on the floor. She had calmed
considerably, though they all noted that she didn't seem to want to
return to the yard.
“That was really good 'magic',”
Sam sighed, shaking his head as he watched the girl. “I don't ever
remember you um... using that before.”
“Of course you wouldn't dude,”
Dean snorted. He smirked at his younger brother. “Holy water and
lavender oil gets rid of the bad fairies.” And as soon as he said
it, the memory floated back to Sam and he shook his head before
hanging it low. Willow looked up in interest and Dean explained.
“When Uncle Sammy was little, he was afraid that the tooth fairy
wasn't real. That she was actually a bad fairy. So I found the magic
recipe to get rid of them. I remembered the right recipe for other
things too.”
“Mint?” the little girl asked
curiously. Dean nodded solemnly.
“'Cause they're both green,” he
told her secretively, his eyes flickering to the others who were
obviously trying to contain their amusement. Willow's eyes went wide,
the logic making perfect sense to her six year old brain. “Now,”
he told her, “why don't you take that to the living room with your
book and see what happens?” She nodded happily and turned away from
him. But before she got very far, she stepped to Sam's side and
quickly hugged him.
“What was that for?” Sam wondered.
“For protectin' me,” she answered
shyly.
“Well of course I'll protect you,”
Sam admitted helplessly and smiled down at her. “I was just
surprised you came to me instead of Dean.”
The girl pulled back to match his
smile. “Only cause you're taller,” she explained and then skipped
out of the room to find her backpack. The adults laughter followed
her all the way.
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