Ok so I saw this post on tumblr about having some sort of girl sitting at the scene of the crime, already handling the situation when Sam and Dean get there and I had THE BIGGEST urge to write it and I couldn't control myself so all credit gose to whoever came up with that idea and I'm not trying to stal anything, cross my heart and hope to die. It's ok because sam ans dean will just drag me out again…or Cass. The point is no one really DIES in Supernatural…ANYWAY, I own nothing other than the things I make up as I go along!
The twenty-year old college student sat there on Christmas day in her old bedroom. Usually she would be sitting in the living room, opening presents and laughing when she got the odd joke presents her dad gave her every year. But not now. No, she sat on her bed, surrounded by a lot of snacks and watching Inuyasha all by herself. Well…. not all by herself.
Sam and Dean Gave each other weary looks when they knocked on the front door and no one inside stirred. Sam took a look though the windows but they were covered with red curtains with little candy canes all over them. The house was covered in lights and decorations and it looked like a happy little home. Dean glanced at the curtains and snorted. He took a step back before kicking in the door, the jagged knife with odd writing engraved into it poised to stab at any moment. Sammy backed him up, a salt shotgun in his hands, locked and loaded.
The first thing they saw was the rotting corpse of a man in his late forties wearing an ugly Christmas sweater. His throat was slit with what appeared to be a broken shard of a ceramic Christmas ball. They carefully stepped over him, avoiding the deep red puddle of blood soaked through the carpet. As they continued walking through the halls, they met a door painted in blue. Dean cautiously opened the door with the toe of his boot and it slowly slid open. They looked around the room and Sam made a pained face when he realized that this was the room of a small boy, probably around the age of six or seven. Toys littered the floor and a messily made bed sat close to the north wall. Dean made a strangled noise when he tripped on a toy car and nearly fell backwards. Sammy looked up and gave him a look that red, 'really, Dean?'. Dean just fixed his jacket and kept walking as if nothing had happened.
"Dean, I think there's no one home…" Sam said as he walked back outside into the hallway and into the kitchen. Dishes were piled up and different baked treats were set out on the table.
"Sam…" Deans voice called back from the little boy's room, laced with sorrow. Sam walked in and clenched his jaw when he saw the small body of the six-year old boy, huddled in the very back of the closet, blood tracing down his lips and chest.
"Is he still…?" Dean just shook his head and walked pass Sam to explore the other rooms. Sammy followed after a few minutes of blankly staring at the boy, wondering what horrors the child must have gone through during his last moments alive.
They both walked into another room and blanched at the sight of what they were looking at. At the edge of the room sat a bed, near a large window and on that bed sat a girl surrounded by food and drinks, clearly too entranced in whatever she was watching to look up at the two men who had just entered. Right at the foot of her bed was a large devil's trap, painted in what looked like red lipstick on the floor. A demon stood in the middle of it, eyes completely blacked out. It had taken over the body of a middle-aged woman and turned to glare at Sam and dean. A cruel smile curled onto its lips.
"Well look at that! Sam and Dean! Fantastic!" It said sarcastically. The girl on the bed looked up, her green eyes narrowed on the demon. She pulled out her headphones and then looked up at the two brothers. Her face lit up in multiple emotions. Surprise, excitement, bewilderment, awe and others. Then it fell back into a calm mask. She brushed away the white bangs falling into her eyes and sat up straighter. Her short-cropped hair was black other than the white bangs and Sam and Dean gave her weary looks, examining her over-all appearance. She had small gages in her ears, a spiked bracelet and a rather dark looking Christmas tee-shirt that showed Santa clause in a noose with the words 'Hanging out for the holidays' printed on it.
Dean immediately suspected her as a demon. He kept the knife poised while Sammy looked extremely confused. The Demon saw Dean's face and used that as its advantage.
"So now that we've got them, what are you going to do with the Winchesters?" It smirked, looking at the girl on the bed. The girl simply picked up a clear, plastic spray bottle and sprayed it like a cat. It screamed slightly and tried to jump back as it's skin sizzled and smoked as the holy water made contact with her skin.
"Shut up, demon. Didn't I tell you to stay quiet? Next time, I'm poring the whole goddamn bottle on you, understand?" She said coldly. Sam and Dean exchanged looks before looking back at the girl. She moved the laptop off of her lap and set it down besides her.
"So are you going to exercise it or not?" She raised and eyebrow, waiting for them to get along with it. Dean moved forward hesitantly, knife poised but he froze when she yelled out,
"NO! Are you fucking crazy!? That's my mom! I said exercise her, not kill her! Can't the green giant over there use the demon blood? Or is he off that now? If he is, then call Castiel! Don't stab my mother!" She yelled at them, glaring at both of them. Dean cleared his throat and stepped back.
"Uh…yeah…yeah…" He gave Sammy a confused face, which he returned. "Uh…Cass, right."
"Yes?" Came a raspy voice from behind them and they all whirled around to see Cass standing there with his usual worried face. Or was that confusion? Whatever it was, he always wore that intense look.