Hey there, thanks so much for checking out my story! The complete story is going to be quite long, full of many twists and turns, but I'll just be posting one chapter at a time (especially as I am still working on some of the chapters!). This is the very first fanfic story that I have shared, and if you enjoy it and favourite, follow or leave me a comment, you will honestly make my day!

Chapter 1 – Soul Ticket

Castiel stood on the splintered threshold of a small home, the owner unconscious in his arms. He made ready to fly back to the Impala, which was speeding into town with Sam and Dean. But instead, a squadron of police officers trained lights and guns on him.

"Let go of the hostage, and put your hands up," said a voice over a megaphone.

Castiel thought better of vanishing in front of this many witnesses, and did has he was instructed. He allowed the officers to handcuff him, and put him into the back of a police car. As the car drove away, he saw the girl, his "hostage" as the police had called her, being loaded into an ambulance.

Dean isn't going to like this, Castiel thought to himself.

One Hour Earlier…

"Groceries," Rori said under her breath.

She was standing in front of the refrigerator in her house, surveying its emptiness. She thought about calling friends to go out for a bite, and then had to remind herself that she didn't have any – at least, not in this area code. Being relatively new to this small town in western Canada, she still didn't know very many people here.

After pulling on her running shoes, Rori stuffed some cash into her jeans pocket and headed out into the uncharacteristically warm May evening. The sun was setting, but it was a safe neighbourhood, and the grocery store was only a fifteen minute walk away, through the park behind her house.

At the store, Rori picked up a few essentials, along with a bag of watermelon gummy rings, then headed out. It was now completely dark outside, though she still felt no chill in the air, even with just her purple tank top and jeans on. She followed the sidewalk back to the edge of the park, and then cut up the hill through the trees, a cloth grocery bag in each hand. Just before reaching the small clearing around the playground, she stopped – something was wrong.

There was a fight happening on the playground. Rori stared in disbelief for a minute before gaining the sense to duck behind a tree – it was shocking to her to see a fight in this neighbourhood. As she peered at the scene, she realized that these weren't just kids either; these were adult men and women, and were those swords they were fighting with? Heart racing, Rori quietly snuck around the perimeter of the playground, crouched low and hidden by the branches of the evergreens, still clutching her groceries. She had nearly reached the other side of the park, and was contemplating making a run for it back to her house, when a scream stopped her cold.

One of the men had been stabbed through the chest by an agile woman dressed in a suit, wielding a sword. A strange flash of light seemed to emanate from his body as she stabbed him. Maybe he had a pacemaker, Rori thought, the logical side of her brain desperately trying to make sense of the scene.

The wind was picking up, along with Rori's breathing. It blew bits of trash and paper from around the playground towards the trees where Rori crouched. One bit of paper snagged on the low branches of the pine tree she was hidden under, just as the moon peaked out from behind a cloud. The paper glinted in the moonlight with a strange, unnatural glow. Rori finally abandoned her hold on her groceries, and reached out for the paper. It felt soft, almost like well-worn silk, as she held it close to her face. There was writing on the paper, stitched in golden thread.

"Sam Winchester," Rori read aloud.

Suddenly, the paper flashed with a blinding light that hit Rori like a wrecking ball. She was knocked off her feet and hit the ground hard. Rori felt momentarily dazed – her hands and feet were tingling. Blinking, she sluggishly propped herself up on an elbow, and wondered why it was so quiet suddenly. She looked back towards the playground.

"Oh crap," she said.

All of the fighters from the playground had clearly seen the flash, and were all now walking towards the trees where she lay. Thankfully, it seemed they were still having trouble pinpointing her exact location – it was enough to give her a head start.

Rori's flight or fight response finally kicked in. She jumped to her feet, and careened through the trees, out of the park towards her house. She could hear the others running behind her, shouting to each other, but she didn't dare look back. Rori was athletic, and her head start, along with her knowledge of the area, aided her in reaching the front door of her house ahead of the pursuers. After a desperate few seconds of fumbling with the keys, she let herself in, and deadbolted the door behind her.

Leaning against the door, Rori let out a huge sigh, and put her hands on her knees to stop them from shaking. She looked down, and realized she was still holding onto the little piece of paper with Sam Winchester's name on it. She stuffed it into the pocket of her jeans. Then a bang on the door made her yelp. They had found her.

Rori bolted upstairs, and locked herself in her bedroom. She grabbed her phone and got into the closet, sliding the door closed. As she dialed 9-1-1, she heard someone break her front door in.

"There are people in my house," Rori whispered to the operator, as she heard several voices downstairs. "I need help. I'm at 402 Cloverdale Road, and …" Her closet door abruptly slid open, and a blue-eyed man wearing a trenchcoat put a hand firmly over her mouth.

Rori lashed out, but her swings seemed no match for this man, who kept making odd shushing motions with his lips at her. Now he grabbed her, keeping a hand over her mouth, and pulled her out of the closet. Rori didn't understand how he had gotten into her room when her bedroom door was still locked from the inside.

Fighting as hard as she could, but not getting enough oxygen with a hand over her mouth and nose, Rori started to hyperventilate. She heard people coming up the stairs, and then her bedroom door was kicked in. Just as she was blacking out, she saw the trench-coated man, who was still holding her, draw a sword.

Even while holding an unconscious woman, Castiel was no match for the demons who had stormed into the bedroom. He fought deftly, making his way out of the bedroom, down the hallway, and down the stairs to the splintered shards of wood that used to be the front door. Eight demons met their demise along his path.

Now standing by the front steps, he scooped the girl up into his arms, only to put her right back down when the police trained their spotlights on him. He hadn't expected them to be there. This case already had the premonition of becoming very complicated, he thought, as the police rushed forwards.

Rori opened her eyes in a white room, filled with early morning light. Blinking, she quickly recalled all of the events of the previous night, and took stock of her surroundings. It looked like she was in a hospital room, and someone had changed her into a gown. The digital clock told her it was 8:25am on Saturday.

Sitting up, she saw a police officer standing just outside the door of her room. She didn't seem to be injured at all, so she got out of bed, and padded across the room in her bare feet to the washroom. Her shoes and clothes had been neatly placed on a bench. She noticed the police officer glance at her as she closed the bathroom door.

Ten minutes later she had freshened up and dressed. She headed to the door to the hallway, intent on talking to a doctor about being discharged. But as she opened the door, she walked straight into a handsome man wearing a suit.

"Sorry, I was just…" said Rori.

"Pardon me. Sorry about that." The man made eye contact with Rori, and held her gaze for several seconds. He had a cleft chin and intense green eyes. He seemed strangely familiar.

"Do I know you from somewhere?" Rori asked. The man broke her gaze, and looked down.

"No, I don't think so," he said. "Agent Hadfield, FBI." He flipped open a badge to Rori.

"Are you related to the astronaut?" Rori asked. Stupid, she immediately thought, letting her inner geek show to an FBI agent.

"What?" he asked.

"What?" said Rori. The man cleared his throat.

"Miss Jennings…"

"Aurora," Rori interrupted. "Or Rori. Please." She added a smile for good measure.

"Rori, can I speak to you in private for a moment?"

"Oh, of course." She backed up into the hospital room, and Agent Hadfield closed the door. Rori rushed headfirst into a recounting of all the events that she could remember of the previous night. When she was done, the agent sat down on the bed, and rubbed his face. He looked like he was contemplating what to say next.

"Would you like to go get a coffee?"

"Well, shouldn't I sign out with a doctor or something first?" Rori asked skeptically. She wasn't usually one for breaking rules. The agent was shaking his head with a slight smile.

"Already taken care of. One of the advantages of being FBI – less paperwork," the agent said with a wink. Rori frowned, unsure if she was being naïve to leave the hospital with this man. Something about his smile seemed insincere, as she caught his eyes again. Yet, at the same time, Rori had a strong feeling that she already knew him, and that she could trust him. Ultimately she let her logic decide - he had the badge, and the police officer guarding her room had let him in, so any other instincts needed to just calm down. They were probably still heightened from last night, Rori told herself.

"Sure, it would be nice to get out of here. I'm just glad it's all over," Rori said with an exhale. Rori thought she saw Agent Hadfield tighten his shoulders at her last sentence, but then he smiled again, and led her out of the room, past the guard. And with that, Rori Jennings was escorted out of the hospital, and into a 1967 Chevrolet Impala.

The agent drove them to a small coffee shop a few blocks away, and Rori ordered a large hot chocolate, with whipping cream and chocolate sauce.

"Make that two," the agent said, after eyeing Rori's mug. They sat down at a quiet booth in the back. He stared hard at Rori for a long minute in concentration.

"Do I have chocolate sauce on my face?"

"What? No, no." He dropped his gaze, and sighed before beginning again. "Look, there are some things I'm going to tell you now that are going to be hard to hear. But just know that I am choosing to tell you the truth, because I think you're a smart girl."

"Okay…"

"Just know that I am on your side, and that I'm here to help you. I mean that." The agent locked eyes again with Rori. There was something about him that Rori instinctively trusted, even though logically she couldn't explain why. But then again, none of what had happened in the past twelve hours was very logical.

"You aren't an FBI agent, are you?" she said wisely. The man shook his head.

"My name is Dean Winchester." Rori's eyes widened. Her hand dug down into her pocket, and she pulled out the mysterious piece of paper, stitched with golden thread. She held it up for Dean to read. "Sam is my brother."

An hour later, Rori and Dean were back in the Impala, on their way to the police station where Castiel was being held. Dean had told her demons were real, and that he and his brother Sam hunted them, with help from Cas – which, Rori learned, was the name of the man in the trenchcoat that Rori had encountered in her home.

"Well, Sam's had no luck getting Cas released," Dean said to Rori, hanging up his cell phone. "Apparently the local cops aren't too keen on turning over their prisoner to the FBI."

"Are you sure they'll let me drop the charges?" Rori asked. Dean was nodding.

"If the only witness pronounces the suspect innocent, legally they have no grounds to hold him. Trick is, they need to believe you."

"Don't worry, I've got the story down," Rori said, running over the charade Dean had suggested to her one more time in her head. She honestly didn't believe in this whole demons business that Dean had described to her, but she could at least believe the trench-coated man had been trying to protect her from the others who had broken into her house. And she could also believe that something odd had happened when she had picked up that paper with Sam Winchester's name on it – she definitely felt different somehow today. Her emotions and personality were still the same, but Rori felt like she had a new awareness – heightened instincts and reflexes that hadn't been there before. And she also felt a strong sense of trust towards Dean, despite the fact that he had completely unhinged her world in the couple hours since she met him.

Dean pulled the Impala into the police station parking lot, driving past several empty stalls to park at the very far end of the lot.

"Something wrong with those stalls by the door?"

"What, and risk some idjit denting my baby?" Dean sounded alarmed.

"Your… baby? Oh, you mean the car!" Dean frowned at her.

"She's not just a car, you know." Rori put up her hands in mock surrender.

"Sorry, sorry."

"Okay," Dean took a breath. "Let's do this."