Disclaimer: I do not own 'Supernatural' or anything else that is associated with it. Most of the dialogue is from the transcripts.

A/N This story is also on Wattpad. I hope you like it, please review! I love you all.

Prologue

Bela opened the door to her temporary room with the key, before turning to close it behind her. She gasped as someone pushed her back against the door. It was Dean. With his gun and he was angry.

'Crap,' She thought to herself.

He laid his arm across her throat and pointed his gun at her face, scowling. "Where's the Colt?"

"Dean." Bela greeted, calmly.

He shook his gun in front of her face. "No extra words,"

Bela smirked a little. "It's long gone, across the world by now."

"You're lying," He grabbed her bag roughly from her grasp and looked inside it.

She watched him with amusement in her eyes. "I'll call the buyer. Speak Farsi?" She mocked him, with a teasing smile.

Finding nothing, he threw the bag to the side and grabbed the thief by the waist, pulling her flush against him. Bela buckled and fear crept up her spine. The action brought up old memories that Bela did not want to think about- could not think about. She tried to keep herself calm, but her heart started beating faster and faster, so fast that she was sure that Dean could hear her heart pulsing.

"What the hell are you...?" She drifted off as Dean quickly frisked her, holding up her gun to her face.

He scowled. "Don't flatter yourself," Using his gun, he flicked on the lights before pointing it back at Bela. "Don't move."

He began searching the room, Bela still standing against the door, her heart starting to slow down. She sighed in relief, before speaking up, trying to get him to leave. "I told you I don't have it,"

"Oh, yeah, I'm definitely gonna take your word for it."

Bela slowly started to slide along the wall towards the door and just as she was about to turn, a bullet shot through the door, inches from her head. She froze and slowly turned to face the hunter.

"Don't move." He warned, before continuing to search for the Colt.

'Where did she hide it?' He growled inwardly.

"It's gone. Get on a plane if you must. Track down the buyer. You might catch up to him eventually," She tried again. It worked.

He stopped searching and pointed his gun at her head again.

"Are you going to kill me?" She asked, calmly, but on the inside she was scared. Dean wouldn't kill her. He couldn't. Right?

Dean snarled. "Oh, yeah."

"You're not the cold-blooded type."

Dean smirked, hatred in his eyes. "You mean like you? That's true. See, I couldn't imagine killing my parents,"

She halted. How did he find out? How much did he know? She quickly composed herself. Mask back on. "I don't know what you're talking..."

The older Winchester scofffed, his smile mocking her. "Yes, you do. You were, what, 14? Folks died in some shady car accident. Police suspected a slashed brake line, but it was all too crispy to tell. Cut to little Bela...Oh, I'm sorry, Abby...inheriting millions," He stared at her with disgust.

"How did you even..." She drifted off.

"Doesn't matter." He cut her off.

Bela thought back to when she was little Abby, a young child. She remembered how she would sit on her bed, tears rolling down her face. How scared she would feel when he would enter her room, a smile on his cruel face. How he would ask her, "Don't you want to make me happy, Abigail?" She hated him. She hated them. But she would never tell Dean. She'd rather have him think of her as a heartless bitch who killed her parents for money. He should never know.

"They were lovely people. And I killed them. And I got rich. I can't be bothered to give a damn. Just like I don't care what happens to you," Her heart ached as she lied.

Dean pushed her aggressively against the door, his arm across her throat again. As he did this, a strand of woven herbs dislodged from the ledge above the door. Dean stared at Bela, the tension in the room so thick that you could cut it with a knife.

"You make me sick."

Bela stared back, "Likewise.

Dean took a step back and again pointed his gun at her head, smirking. She stared back, then closed her eyes. He glanced up, finding the herbs hanging over the ledge. He looked back at her for a moment, thinking and then lowered his gun. Bela opened her eyes when nothing happened.

"You're not worth it." Pushing her aside, he left.

Bela let out a sigh and looked down at the scrap of paper she had pick-pocketed from Dean. It was a motel receipt, The Erie. She bit her lip. Could she do this? Should she do this?

'All these years I haven't cared, so why do I now? Screw them!' She picked up her phone and dialled the number, hoping she could get out of this alive.

"It worked. He found me. No, Sam wasn't with him. But I know where they are."

She got into her car, and made her way to The Erie. She had to do this. It was the only way she would survive. She had to do this. At least that's what she kept telling herself to justify what she was going to do. Bela slowly walked down the hallway and picked the lock on the boys' motel door.

Removing a gun from her jacket she quietly entered. She raised the gun and without any hesitation, shot the boys while they were asleep under the covers, on their individual beds. Bela moved closer and turned on the bedside lamp. Something wasn't right.

'That was too easy,' She thought to herself, fear creeping in again as she glanced at the clock. 11:56pm.

She pulled back the covers to find a sex doll slowly deflating. Not Sam. Frantically, she checked the other bed. Another sex doll. Not Dean. Suddenly, the phone started ringing and she quickly picked it up.

Dean's voice rang through the motel's phone. "Hiya, Bela." She frowned. "Here's a fun fact you may not know. I felt your hand in my pocket, when you swiped that motel receipt."

'That's how he knew. Crap. No. No. No. Why did I go through with this? Why?' Bela started to tear up. She couldn't believe she had let it go this far.

"You don't understand." She shook her head, a tear rolling down her face.

"Oh, I'm pretty sure I understand perfectly. See, I noticed something interesting in your hotel room. Something tucked above the door. An herb. Devil's shoestring? There's only one use for that. Holding hellhounds at bay. So you know what I did, I went back and I took another look at your folks' obit. Turns out they died ten years ago today. You didn't kill them. A demon did your dirty work. You made a deal, didn't you, Bela. And it's come due."

Bela held back a sob. She thought back to the day it all went south. She was sitting on the swings, where her mum used to sit. The demon had sat next to her, "I can take care of them for you. And it won't even cost you anything for ten whole years," she had said. Her eyes had flashed red. Bela knew from that moment she was trouble. Knew that it would get her no where. But she was in pain. She wanted out. So she said yes and now she was going to Hell.

"Is that why you stole the Colt, huh? Try to wiggle out of your deal, our gun for your soul?" Dean continued.

Bela's shoulders sank in defeat. No more lies. "Yes."

Dean shook his head, a sad smile on his face. "But stealing the Colt wasn't quite enough, I'm guessing."

"They changed the deal. They wanted me to kill Sam."

Dean laughed. "Really! Wow, demons untrustworthy. Shocker. That's, uh, kind of a tight deadline too – what time is it? Well, look at that, almost midnight."

Bela broke down. She couldn't hold it in. She didn't want to die. No more being strong. "Dean, listen, I need help!"

"Sweetheart, we are weeks past help." Dean wouldn't admit it, but the sound of the thief crying broke his heart.

"I know I don't deserve it."

"You know what, you're right, you don't." Bela felt like she had been punched in the stomach. "But you know what the bitch of the bunch is? If you would have just come to us sooner and asked for help we probably could have taken the Colt and saved you."

That's what did it for Bela. She had known. She'd known all along that if she had just asked, they would've helped. Maybe they could have saved her. Even if they didn't, at least she wouldn't have been alone when she died. She'd screwed it up. Big time. There was no coming back from this.

"I know, and saved yourself. I know about your deal, Dean."

Dean sighed. "And who told you that?"

"The Demon that holds it. She holds mine too. She said she holds every deal."

"She?" Dean asked.

"Her name's Lilith."

"Lilith? Why should I believe you?"

Bela sniffed. "You shouldn't but it's the truth."

Dean groaned. "This can't help you, Bela, not now. Why're you telling me this?"

She bit her lip from crying out. "Because, just maybe, you can kill the bitch."

It broke his heart. It did. But there was nothing he could do now. It was too late. He couldn't save her, and as much as he wanted to, he just couldn't.

"I'll see you in hell." He hung up.

Bela sat down on the bed, the dial tone ringing in her ears. She felt like someone had already pulled her soul out of her body. Slowly, she put the phone back in its place and took a deep breath. The clock struck midnight. In the distance, a deep howling started and she could hear the vicious growls getting closer and closer.

A tear rolled down her face as the door burst open. "I really hope not, Dean." She whispered before picking up her gun and putting it to her head.

The hellhounds growled. If she was going to go down, Bela Talbot was going to go down her way.

"Goodbye Dean."