Sam and Dean Winchester sat at the bar of Harvel's roadhouse enjoying their beers after a long, difficult hunt. It was a rest well deserved. Dean sat facing the room with an eye on the door. Sam sat next to him on a bar stool and was turned, facing Dean, with his back to the room and the door. Dean glanced at his brother. How can he sit like that, thought Dean. I could never sit with my back to a room full of strangers. Dean smiled. His brother was still young and trusting in so many ways. It didn't occur to Sam to watch his own back; Dean always did that, and Sam watched Dean's back. Going to get Sam was the best idea Dean had had in years.

"I bet y'all could show us a real good time," a drunken hunter called loudly from across the room with pool cue stick in hand. His buddy joined in the leering. They were each about six foot tall with beer bellies and bad teeth. Neither looked as if they'd bathed in a week- typical backwoods rednecks. They were talking to two skimpily dressed young women standing next to the pool table. Dean nodded that direction. Sam turned to see what was going on. He glanced back at Dean. They exchanged knowing looks. They'd been in enough bar fights to know where this was heading.

"Get away from me you slobbering, drunk!" the young blond woman huffed, slapping his hand away from her face.

"Hey bitch!" yelled Redneck Number One, moving to hit her. Sam and Dean jumped up to intervene. A short, athletic brunette beat them to it.

"Hey sweetheart!" the brunette called. The slobbering drunk brought his hand down without hitting his target. "There's no need to fight. She may not be interested, but I am."

"Yeah?" he said looking her up and down throughly. She was pretty but not conventionaly so. Her nose was a little crooked and her hair- lackluster. She probably had a decent body but it was hard to tell beneathe the loose fitting t-shirt and jeans. She obviously didn't come here looking to attract a man- unlike the two women standing next to her. She might not have the most beautiful body, but it was a willing body. "You are a pretty little thing. Maybe we could all..." he leered, letting the suggestion hang mid air.

Dean moved toward the group. "Easy," Ellen Harvel, owner of the roadhoushe, called softly. "She can handle herself."

"Handle herself? She's a foot shorter than they are and there's two of them," he said.

"And she can handle herself," Ellen replied.

"Maybe we could," the brunette said as she slid her hand up the pool stick suggestively. "You know I've always appreciated a man with a long cue stick."

"Really?" he asked, stepping in closer. "Well, baby, I've got just what you need." She leaned in to kiss him- and knee'd him in the groin. She grabbed the cue stick and cracked his skull with it, breaking it in two. Redneck Number Two moved in. He swung at her, missing completely. She hit him across the back with the stick. He charged her, picked her up, and dropped her on the pool table. She lost the cue stick in the process. Hitting the pool table knocked the wind out of her. Sam and Dean moved forward. Ellen held up her hand. They stopped, but questioned Ellen with a look. She smiled. They remained where they were. Redneck Number Two grabbed the brunette's shirt, trying to pull it off her. "You bitch! You're gonna pay," he sneered. He slapped her. She recoiled with the force of the hit then she recovered, leaned forward, and-- kissed him.

He went slack with astonishment. She broke the kiss and in the stunned silence that followed, she punched him. It broke his hold. She leaned back and kicked him in the head. He fell to the floor- out cold. She gingerly slid off the pool table. She gently wiped the side of her mouth were his ring had struck her. She looked down at her hand- blood. Redneck Number One was coming around. She picked up the cue stick halves and whacked him in the back of the head with one of them. He was out again.

"Ellen?" she called as she stepped over the first guy's body. "You got some trash to take out." She walked up to the bar and placed the cue sticks and two twenties on top. "Sorry 'bout the cue stick," she said. She looked at the man standing next to her- six foot, short brown hair, full lips, muscular, and attractive. His eyes were hazel- green, and they looked twice as old as he did- like he'd see too much in his twenty something years. She recognized the look well; it was the same one that stared back at her every morning from the mirror. The man standing next to him was a few inches taller, dark hair, soft brown eyes, and an easy smile. He seemed as approachable as the other man seemed distant.

Dean looked down at the woman and found himself staring at the most amazing blue eyes. Sam caught his brother staring at her and smiled to himself.

She turning her attention to the two women. "What the hell do you two think you're doing?"

"We just stopped for directions," the blonde said.

"Directions? Does this look like the kind of bar people people stop at for directions?" She checked her watch. "At one o'clock in the morning? There's a seven-eleven down the road. Stop and ask them for directions. They're relatively normal."

"We didn't mean to start any trouble," her friend said.

"You come into a bar like this- dressed like that- and you don't think there's gonna be any trouble?"

The two women looked at each other- confused. "Go on. Get the hell out of here," the brunette said. She walked them to the door and opened it for them. They walked through the door hugging the opposite side of it as they went. She closed the door behind them muttering, "I swear some people are dumber than a day old box of rocks."

Sam and Dean exchanged smiles.

The brunette picked up her coat off the coat rack and pulled it on. "Again, sorry 'bout the cue stick Ellen," she said.

"Don't worry about it Kay," Ellen replied.

"See 'ya," Kay said and walked to the door.

"Scraps?" Ellen called.

"Oh yeah, Reaper'd be pissed if I forgot those," Kay said. She picked up the bag of scraps that Ellen had pulled out from behind the bar, "Thanks."

"No problem."

After she was gone Sam asked, "Who was that?"

"Kayla Johnson," Ellen replied.

"Hunter?" asked Dean.

"Uh... yeah. Exorcist actually, but she hunts other things as well. Exorcism is her specialty- best of the best."

"Really?" Sam asked.

"Yeah. She can cast out demons that no one else can touch."

Dean looked at the door she had exited through- a soft smile playing on his lips.


A week later

Kayla tossed in her sleep. The dream was so real. She saw flashes of images. A sign for St Mary's Catholic church. The words Mount Vernon, Illinois, came to mind. It was night time. There was a semi chasing a black, classic, muscle car. In it were the two guys from Harvel's.

Kayla awoke with a start. "Reaper?" she asked. The German shepherd was sitting at the door to the motel room- his post- with his ears perked up and ready for action. "Come on, they're in trouble or they will be soon."


"Got any ideas?" Dean asked as he tried to keep the Impala in the road- not an easy task while going nearly ninety.

"No clue. Maybe holy ground?" Sam replied looking over his left shoulder. The semi was bearing down on them hard. All he saw was the bright headlights and a chrome grill.

"Worth a shot," Dean replied, making a left turn on two wheels. "Any churches or cemetaries near by?"

Sam pulled out his laptop and logged on. He googled Mount Vernon, Illinois, church, and map. Several links popped up. He clicked on one.

"Hurry up!" Dean growled.

"I'm working on it." He clicked a few more times. "Ok, where are we?"

"Mount Vernon, Illnois," Dean answered.

"What street moron?" Sam replied looking for a street sign.

"Fifteenth," Dean said. Sam looked up and saw street signs saying fifteenth and Maple. He looked back at his laptop.

"Ok, turn left on Pine. At the top of the hill is St. Mary's Catholic church," Sam replied.

"Nice job, college boy," Dean replied as he slammed on the brakes and turned on to Pine street. The semi had trouble making the turn, but managed it. The Impala crested the hill. Dean cranked the steering wheel left as the semi was almost on top of them. The semi clipped the back of the Impala sending it into a tailspin. Dean tried to regain control of the car. The Impala slammed into a tree and bounced back. Dean came rocketing forward, banging his head and chest on the steering wheel. He couldn't breathe; it hurt so bad. He tried to raise his head up. Blood was trickling from a gash in his forehead. He slumped back over the steering wheel, passing out. Sam flew forward and hit his head on the windshield. He now laid in the passenger's seat sideways and unconcious. The semi stopped, pulled into a strip mall parking lot, and began to turned around.

A dark blue SUV pulled up by the Impala. Kay rushed out and began to check Sam's pulse- thready but strong. She rushed to Dean's side of the car and checked his pulse- fast but strong. He slowly began to come around. He blinked once then twice and found himself staring once again into the most amazing blue eyes. "What--" he asked.

"Don't talk and don't move," she said. The car wasn't quite on to church property. They weren't protected. She sized up the situation. She couldn't push the car physically- too heavy. She looked up the road. The semi pulled back onto the main road- coming toward them. She stepped back from the car a few feet and held her hand up to it. The car it began to slowly roll forward. She steered it around the tree. Dean blinked twice. She's pushing it-- with her mind, he thought. The semi began to pick up speed. The Impala rolled forward- just a few feet more and they would be safe. Kayla pushed the car slowly so as to not jar the boys and their injuries. The semi was barrelling closer and closer. The Impala finally crossed on to hallowed ground. Kayla turned to face the semi. It was a less than ten feet from her. She held up both hands and threw the semi to the right. It took all her strength. She hit her knees, breathing hard, and bleeding from the nose. The semi crashed into the ditch and then the cornfield across the road. Dean saw it all. She gathered herself together and walked as fast as she could manage to the semi. The driver had been thrown clear. He was dead. She sighed heavily with tears in her eyes. She hated it when someone got hurt- especially an innocent bystander. There was a cloud of black smoke racing off toward the east; the demon had abandoned it's host. She picked up her cell phone and called 911 as she walked back to Sam and Dean. She finished relaying the information as she approached the Impala.

"Kay?" Dean asked. He couldn't raise up off the steering wheel. He was too weak, and his chest was killing him.

"Ssh. Don't talk and don't move," Kay said.

"Sam?" Dean asked.

"He's ok-just unconcious. Ambulance is on the way."

Dean looked around, as best he could, at his banged up car. "Son of a bitch." He looked up at Kay. "How did you find us?"

"You just don't understand "Don't talk", huh? Never mind. Just hold still," she said. "We'll talk about it later." She put her hand up to the car to steady herself. She suddenly felt weak and nauseaous.

"You ok?" Dean asked.

"Fine," she replied. She wasn't fine. Using her abilities like that always wore her out.

There was movement from the passenger's side of the Impala. "Sam?" Dean asked.

"Yeah. I'm here," Sam groaned. "My head! Demon?" he asked. Dean looked at Kay.

"Gone. Semi-driver is dead," Kay replied.

Sam looked over to the sound of the voice. It was the woman from the roadhouse, and she looked worse they did. "You ok?" he asked.

"Peachy," Kay replied and slumped to the ground.