Reborn as Sam Winchester in Supernatural TV

Missoula, Montana -- 1998 (Hours After the Encounter)

The motel room's silence is broken only by Dad and Dean's exhausted breathing. Hours of futile tracking have finally forced them to rest. I watch as my darkness subtly alters the protection symbols - they'll hide my absence, make the others sleep deeper.

Finding her trail wasn't difficult. Power like Rowena's leaves impressions in reality itself, visible to those who know how to look. The abandoned Victorian mansion on the outskirts of town practically sings with her magic.

I pause at the property line, admiring her handiwork. Layers of wards ripple like silk in a breeze - Celtic foundations supporting Enochian modifications, all woven together with an artist's touch.

"Beautiful work," I murmur, reaching out with my darkness. The wards shiver in response, trying to categorize what I am. My power seeps through them like smoke through gauze.

The mansion's front door opens at my touch. Inside, magic saturates the air - preservation spells, protection charms, detection wards. A lifetime of magical expertise on display.

"I wouldn't take another step if I were you."

Rowena's voice carries from the shadows, accent thick with warning. Power gathers around her hands, old magic ready to strike.

"Impressive setup," I say casually, continuing forward. "The layered wards especially. Celtic base with Enochian modifications. But you might want to account for... other forms of power."

My darkness spreads slowly through the room, tasting her spells, caressing magical artifacts with almost loving attention.

"What in heaven's name..." she starts, then catches herself. I see her reassess, centuries of survival instinct kicking in. "The younger Winchester, isn't it? You're not quite what you appear to be, are you?"

"No," I smile, letting my power rise more fully. "I'm really not."

"So," Rowena maintains her poise despite my darkness filling her sanctum. "To what do I owe this rather dramatic entrance?"

"I wanted to talk." I examine a nearby spell matrix, my power ghosting over its intricate design. "About magic, knowledge... mutual opportunities."

"And you thought breaking through my wards was the best way to start this conversation?" Her magic flares defensively, but there's curiosity in her tone.

"I needed to show you what you're dealing with." I turn to face her fully, letting her see the depths behind my powerless psychic human facade. "Just as you showed Dean what you could do earlier."

"Ah." Her eyes narrow thoughtfully. "That was deliberate, was it? Testing my reaction to your brother's interesting little sword?"

"No. That was you testing us." My darkness dances between us. "America's supernatural landscape is changing. You wanted to see how."

She laughs softly, though her power remains ready. "Clever boy. But that doesn't explain... this." She gestures at my manifesting power. "What manner of creature are you?"

"Someone who could be very useful to you, Rowena MacLeod."

The use of her true name hits home. Her spine straightens, ancient magic crackling around her fingers. "Now how would you know that?"

"I know many things." I ease my power back slightly - no need to overwhelm. "Including why you're really here, gathering power, testing defenses."

"Do tell," Rowena's voice carries centuries of careful neutrality. "Since you seem so... well-informed."

"You're looking for security," I move to her spell-laden table, examining the grimoires spread across it. "Power. A way to ensure you're never vulnerable again. The Grand Coven made sure you understood the price of weakness."

Her magic pulses sharply. "You're treading dangerous ground, boy."

"I'm offering an alliance." I meet her gaze steadily. "You teach me real magic - not the basic spells most modern witches use, but the foundations. The art of it."

"And why," she steps closer, power testing mine, "would I consider such an arrangement?"

My darkness responds, its energy making every magical artifact in the room resonate. Rowena's eyes widen slightly as she feels the true depth of my power

"Because I'm something new," I explain quietly. "Or very old, depending on how you look at it. And because I can offer you something in return."

"Which is?"

"Knowledge. Protection. A place in what's coming that ensures not just your survival, but your ascension."

She's silent for a long moment, centuries of experience weighing options. Finally: "You're not natural. Not entirely human, yet not demon either. Something... else."

"Yes."

"And you want to learn magic. Real magic." She picks up one of her grimoires, considering. "That takes years, dear. Decades of study."

"I'm a quick study." My darkness demonstrates, recreating one of her complex wards in the air between us. "And as you can see, I have certain advantages."

"Interesting trick," Rowena examines my recreated ward. "But raw power isn't everything. True magic requires finesse, understanding, control."

"Exactly why I came to you." I let the ward dissipate. "Your magic isn't just power - it's art. Precision. Centuries of knowledge refined into perfect technique."

She moves to a cabinet, withdrawing a crystal decanter. "And what makes you think I'd be interested in teaching someone who's clearly keeping secrets?"

"Says the witch who's spent centuries hiding her true nature." I watch her pour two glasses of amber liquid. "We all have secrets, Rowena. The question is whether we can be useful to each other despite them."

"Perhaps." She offers me a glass. "But teaching you would put me in rather a difficult position with certain... interested parties."

"The same parties that tried to bind your power?" I accept the drink but don't taste it. "The Grand Coven fears what they can't control. You know that better than most."

Her eyes sharpen. "You know quite a lot about things you shouldn't."

"I know the Coven branded you as excessive. Tried to limit you." My darkness curls lazily through the room. "Just like they'd fear what I can do, if they knew."

"And your family?" She sips her drink. "Your brother with his fascinating sword, your father with his hunting?"

"They have their path. I have mine."

"A double life then?" Rowena circles her drink thoughtfully. "Playing the hunter's son while secretly pursuing... what exactly?"

"Knowledge. Power. The ability to shape events rather than just react to them." I set my untouched glass down. "Something I think you understand quite well."

"And what makes you think I'd be willing to invest time in teaching someone who could be..." she pauses delicately, "compromised by family loyalty?"

My darkness expands slightly, making the room's shadows deepen. "The same reason you're here testing America's supernatural defenses. You sense change coming. Old powers waking up. New players emerging."

"Like your brother's demon-killing sword?" Her tone is carefully casual.

"Among other things." I smile. "The world's shifting, Rowena. The old rules are changing. You can either adapt or be left behind."

She studies me for a long moment, centuries of calculation visible in her eyes. "And you think you know which way the wind is blowing?"

"I know more than most." My power caresses one of her spell books. "Just like I know you're not just gathering power - you're gathering information. Planning for whatever comes next."

"Clever boy." She sets her glass down. "But teaching real magic, the kind you're asking about... that requires trust. Something neither of us seems particularly good at giving."

"Then let's start small," I suggest. "A trial period. One month. You teach me the basics, see what I can do. I show you I can be... discreet about our arrangement."

Rowena laughs softly. "One month to prove yourself worth my time? Rather confident, aren't you?"

"I told you - I'm a quick study." My darkness forms complex patterns in the air, mimicking her earlier spellwork. "And I already understand more than you might think."

"Yes," she watches the display with professional interest. "That's part of what concerns me. Power like yours... it isn't natural. It isn't even magical, not really."

"Does that matter?" I let the patterns fade. "Magic, at its core, is about will and understanding. About seeing how reality can be... adjusted."

"Speaking like a true practitioner already." She moves to her grimoires, running a finger along their spines. "And what exactly would you want to learn first?"

"Foundations. Theory. How magic actually works, not just how to use it." I step closer, careful not to crowd her. "I want to understand it the way you do."

"Ambitious." She turns, measuring me with those ancient eyes. "And potentially dangerous. For both of us."

"Everything worthwhile usually is."

She's silent for a long moment, then: "Three days. Return in three days, after moonrise. We'll see if you have the... aptitude I require in a student."

"And if I do?"

"Then we'll discuss that month-long trial you suggested." Her smile is sharp but not unkind. "Assuming, of course, you can maintain your other... obligations without drawing attention."

"I can handle my family." My darkness begins to recede. "The question is, can you handle teaching someone like me?"

Her laugh follows me as I slip back through her wards. "Oh, dear boy. I think we're both about to find out just what we can handle."

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(Author note: I hope you all enjoyed the chapter!

Do please comment and review, it motivates me to continue writing.

I hope to see you all later,

Bye!)