Part 1
I sat on my sofa in my cozy little apartment, watching netflix on my computer. It was loud through the headphones. I had an old knitted blanket thrown over my legs, a glass of cola on the coffee table, and my cat curled up in front of the portable heater. It was my favorite show- a crime procedural that had been on way too long in most people's opinions, but was providing a great marathon for my currently lonely nights.
My cat, Mildred, got up at some point and began stalking back and forth in front of the lone living room window. I ignored it- Mildred was always being strange, this was nothing new. The cat meowed louder and louder. "Mildred, you know I don't let you out." I frowned, pausing the show and getting up to go look out the window. There was nothing but black outside.
The single light in the parking lot of the apartment building had been burned out for months, so all that I could see was the reflection of my dimly lit room staring back. Still, the darkness seemed oppressive tonight, and I double checked my locks and closed my curtains against it. Deciding that maybe watching a drama about murder and sex crimes wasn't a great idea for that particular evening, I shut off the computer, double checked the doors and windows, and headed to my room. After a quick shower, I took two of my sleeping pills, read for a while, and eventually dozed off. Soon, I was in a deep, dreamless sleep.
"BAM BAM BAM!"
I jumped at the sudden noise. Light drifted lazily into the room through thin curtains, and I swung my legs off of the bed and got up. Someone was pounding and shouting at the door.
"Miss Miles, are you in there? Are you all right?" A male voice shouted, followed by more pounding at the door.
"Yes, yes, I'm here..." I peered through the peephole and saw two officers, a man and a woman, standing at my door. They looked visibly shaken. I opened the door but left the security screen closed. "I'm fine. What's the problem.." I trailed off, opening the door and stepping out onto the walkway. "What the fuck?" I whispered. The apartments in front of my own were demolished, completely flattened. I spun around. Every apartment in the complex was destroyed, utterly and completely, except for mine. Even the one on top of mine was just... gone.
I looked at the officers. They both looked visibly shaken. One was a small but robust looking Asian woman, and the man was tall, with dark skin and short cropped hair. "What the fuck happened?" I asked them. "My neighbors? Are they all right? Did any of them escape? Was it an earthquake?"
"Calm down, Miss Miles. We... aren't sure what happened. But as you can see, the fire department is doing their best to clear this and find survivors. We... we need you to come down to the station with us, please." The female officer, Officer Liu, spoke gently to me. I nodded.
"Okay, okay, of course. But... why?"
"Well, Miss Miles... as far as we can tell, you're the only survivor." Officer Liu looked sad.
"Oh my God." I wandered back into my house, but the other cop, Officer Benson, stopped me.
"Miss, we can't guarantee the structural integrity of your apartment. We can't let you go back inside.
"My cat's in there. And my clothes... and my purse and phone. I..." I trailed off.
"I'll go get your things. Do you have a cat carrier?" Officer Liu asked.
"Liu, you shouldn't go in there either." Benson warned her.
"Jesus Christ, Benson. The building stayed up all night while God knows what was happening. It'll hold a few more minutes." She clapped him on the shoulder and went inside, returning minutes later with a set of clothes, toothbrush, purse, and a very upset cat in a carrier. "Let's just go."
"I think I found something." Sam looked up from his computer and at his brother, who was lying across the couch, his arm thrown over his eyes, groaning. He muttered something unintelligible.
"I said I think I found something, and to be honest... it's really weird. Even for us." Sam continued, ignoring Dean's mutterings. Dean had been out too late the night before, and returned back to their motel this morning reeking of whiskey and cheap perfume. Really cheap perfume. Sam hadn't asked- it was usually the same story.
Dean wearily pulled himself to a sitting position. It was pretty obvious he was nursing a bad hangover.
"Good night, eh?" Sam smirked at him.
"You could say that." Dean gave himself an amused smile and lifted an eyebrow, as though he were remembering something spectacular. "It's not every day you meet a gymnast."
"Jesus, Dean. TMI." Sam rolled his eyes. "So this job... possible job. You want to hear about it or should I let you wallow for a few more hours?"
Dean got up and stretched, his henley shirt showing off a brief hint of chiseled abs before he put his arms back down and came to sit across from his brother. "Yeah, shoot. I'm already awake." He got right back up and went to the cooler. "I need a fucking beer first though. Jesus. Do you know how much gymnasts can drink? Holy God. And then still keep their balance."
Sam ignored him. "So last Tuesday, in Ridgecrest, CA, basically, an apartment building collapsed. It appears there may have been some arson involved because of the "strange charring patterns on the wood."
Dean took a long drink of his beer, opened one eye, and peered at Sam. "An earthquake. And?"
"Annnnd, all except ONE apartment was destroyed. All residents dead. Except one ground floor unit with no structural damage, and the occupant, and her cat, were unharmed. Didn't even hear anything."
"Think she did it? Witch maybe?" Dean got a disgusted look on his face. "I hate witches."
"Could be. I guess we'd have to talk to her. I really can't see how anyone could sleep through the destruction of their entire apartment building." Sam sighed. "Guess we're going back to California."
Dean peered at his little brother. California was where all of this hunting had begun again, back in 2005. When Dean had needed his help, selfishly dragged him off on an "adventure", and set in motion events that had alternately destroyed them both. They didn't often get back to California. They let other hunters take it. "You sure you want to go back, Sammy?"
Sam took a breath, rubbed one hand over the back of his neck, and nodded. "It's been over ten years, Dean. And it's not even the same part of the state. I'll be fine. Besides, this woman either needs our help, or needs us to get rid of her."
"How hard can it be to gank a little old cat lady? Even if she is a witch?" Dean chuckled.
"Paper says she's a 30 year old retail manager named Mina Miles. So, I guess that depends."
After three days straight on the road, the brothers pulled into a ramshackle motel on the outskirts of Ridgecrest. It was a moderately sized town in central California, known for a few wineries. The motel, appropriately called "The Grapevine", was a two story yellow stucco building with rooms accessible from outside. The windows all had purple fake shutters surrounding them, and the forlorn neon sign read "Vac_ncy".
"Home sweet home." Dean got out of the car, pulling his knapsack from the back seat. Sam angled out of the Impala more slowly. At 6'4", he had a few inches on his brother, and since hitting his thirties, springing out of such a confined space wasn't as easy as it had been so many years ago. They checked in with the front desk, got their room keys from a cigarrette-smoking receptionist with a beehive named "Barb", and found their room. Bottom floor. The inside wasn't too bad. Tan carpet, two double beds with black and white checked comforters on them, a small table with two chairs, and a small bathroom. The tile in the bathroom matched the bedspreads.
"So do we know where this "Mina Miles" is now?" Dean asked.
Sam shook his head "no". "We'll have to check with the local police, but I'm going to bet she's with her parents. I think we should check out her apartment first, though." Sam tapped onto his keyboard. A photo of a pretty blonde woman popped up. She had wavy shoulder length hair, and, as typical in DMV photos, she had an awkward half smile. "This is Mina Miles."
Dean nodded in appreciation. "She's hot. Not a bad start to a case."
"We'd better get started." Sam reminded him.
Dean was on the same train of thought. "You go to the police, pull the Fed thing, and get some idea of what's going on. I'll go check out the apartment. Call me when you find anything."
Sam nodded, pulling his suit from his bag to iron. "This one is weird, Dean. I can't put my finger on it. But it feels weird."
Dean shrugged. "Just another hunt, Sammy. They're all weird." He smiled at him, and headed out the door to Miss Miles apartment.
As Dean approached the apartment complex, his jaw slowly dropped. He'd seen plenty of destruction before, sure. But this was different. This was epic. It looked like a giant fist had come down from the sky and smashed all of the buildings flat. Except one, which stood to the left of the courtyard parking lot. A cheery pink block with a few flowers by the door, in the midst of a warzone.
He parked a few blocks away, double checked his fake ID in his pocket, grabbed a flashlight and a few weapons, and headed out. It was getting toward evening now, and long shadows cast themselves across the cracked and splintered sidewalk.
Tearing down the crime scene tape across the door to Mina's apartment, he picked the lock and was in within seconds. He stopped to listen. All was silent. He'd expected dust, or some kind of damage to the inside- shining his flashlight along the floors, walls, and ceilings, he could see nothing. The interior was unscathed. Nothing was even knocked off of a shelf, no glasses had fallen out of a cabinet, nothing. Whatever catastrophic event had happened out there, had not happened in here.
He did a cursory check of the small home, finding it empty of anything living or dead, and started investigating closer. He looked through all of her books. Murder mysteries, Intro to French, an impressive array of fantasy novels, some Sherlock Holmes... Nothing weird except maybe the true crime books. Her dvd collection proved the same. No hex bags anywhere. He sighed and stood by the livingroom window, which faced out, away from the parking lot and destruction. The sun was setting over a small stand of trees about half a mile away.
Frustrated, he turned around and looked at the room. Something caught his eye. At the very edge of the throw rug underneath the coffee table, he saw an almost imperceptible smudge. Flipping the coffee table, and throwing back the rug, he wasn't sure what he was even looking at. It was so hard to see. He shined his flashlight on it, but it didn't help. It was nearly invisible. "Friggin of course!" He muttered, stalking out of the house. He jogged back to his car, found what he was looking for in the trunk, and returned.
He flicked on the black light and aimed it at the floor and gasped. Then he aimed it around the walls, windows, and ceiling. "Fuuuuck."
Sam entered the Ridgecrest PD through the front door, straightened his tie, and approached the counter. The young officer there held up one finger to let him know he was on the phone. Sam waited, looking around. It was a small precinct, with walls painted the tan puke color of most DMV's. He was pretty sure that if he had to go look at any autopsies, they wouldn't be here, they'd be at another facility farther away. Maybe the hospital.
The young officer, who's name was Officer Brown, hung up the phone. "Can I help you sir?"
Sam flashed his badge. "Agent Kottak, FBI. I'm here about the Miles case."
Officer Brown nodded. "Oh yeah, THAT one. That's freaking weird, man." He stopped. "What exactly are you here for though?"
Sam sighed. "Well, Officer Brown, the FBI also thought it was "freaking weird, man" and decided to check it out. You know, homeland security and all that." Officer Brown nodded. "Can I please speak to whoever is in charge of the investigation?"
"Sure thing, but Detective Sweeney isn't in until tomorrow at nine. Should I pencil you in?"
It took a lot to get Sam angry, but Officer Brown was annoying him just a bit. "Sure, pencil me in for 9am. In the meantime, I'd like to look at whatever files you have on the incident."
Sensing that the FBI agent was getting irritated, Officer Brown nodded. "Of course! Come right with me. I'll put you in the empty office and get the file, right away, sir."
Soon Sam was in a small room furnished only with a table, two chairs, and a file cabinet. He was pretty sure he was not in an empty office, but an interrogation room, and that Officer Brown was working front desk because he wasn't playing with a full deck. But he had the file, and a cup of decent black coffee, so he settled in to peruse the case. After about an hour, his phone rang. It was Dean. He picked up.
"What's up?"
"Dude, you have GOT to get over here."
"Is everything all right?"
"I'm not getting my ass kicked or anything, but shit is definitely not all right. This whole thing just took a turn for the very weird. Get your ass down here now." And Dean hung up.
Sam got a copy of the police file, and headed over to the apartment complex via a "borrowed" car. He parked behind the Impala and walked around the block. When he arrived, Dean was in the doorway.
"What did you find?" Sam asked. Dean didn't answer right away. He lead Sam into the room and illuIted it with his blacklight. "Seriously, Dean, if you brought me all the way out here to see semen stains..."
"Dude, no. LOOK." Dean pointed into the room. Sam stepped in.
On every wall, floor, ceiling, cabinet side- basically everywhere- was every kind of warding symbol they had ever seen. And some they had not. Devil's traps, protection against Demons, Angels, and everything in between. They were all down the hall, in the closets, bedroom, and bathroom. Anywhere that there was a physical way into the house, was covered in tiny sigils.
"What the?" Sam let out a breath. "Do you think she did all this?"
Dean shook his head. "I have no idea. I've never seen anything like it. I've never even seen half of these before, have you? Like what the hell does that one mean?" He pointed at a square symbol behind the TV.
Sam shook his head. "I recognize a lot, but not all. Where did these all come from?"
"If they came from her, she's hidden her occult library somewhere else. All she has here are bad mysteries and true crime theories on Jack the Ripper." Dean looked a little shocked, and by this time in his life, it was hard to shock Dean Winchester. "Her laptop is gone so who knows about that."
"Wherever they came from, someone was going to a lot of trouble to keep something out. Basically everything out." Sam stated. "We really need to talk to Mina Miles."
I had just gotten out of the shower when I heard a knock at the door downstairs. Throwing on my short terrycloth robe, I went to answer it. Through the front window I could see two men in suits. One was massively tall, very handsome, with long dark hair. The other was shorter but still not short, ruggedly attractive, with sandy blonde close cropped hair, and a look of confidence about him. I sighed defeatedly. More cops, I was sure. Or insurance people. Or vacuum cleaner salesmen, if I was lucky.
I opened the door, and the two men flashed their badges in unison. "Hi, Ma'am, I'm Agent Kottak" the tall, handsome one said, and gestured at his partner. "This is Agent Roth." The attractive sandy haired agent nodded at me.
"What can I do for you... agents?"
"Well, we need to ask you a few questions about the incident at the Valley Apartments last tuesday. Would you mind if we came in?" Agent Roth smiled at me, showing a row of perfectly straight teeth. I stopped myself from smiling back, instead looking to Agent Kottak. He was the size of a car, but he seemed a little more approachable. Crap was so messed up right now, and they'd decided to send the two best looking Feds to my door. I wasn't sure if this was a blessing or a curse.
"I already told the police everything I know, which is basically nothing." I dejectedly told them. "But I guess if you need to, sure." I held the door open for them. "I just got out of the shower. I'm going to go put some real clothes on. I'll be right back. Make yourselves comfortable." I pointed into the sitting room of my parent's house, and went upstairs.
"You need to stop checking her out, dude. Seriously." Sam scowled at Dean. Dean shrugged.
"Sorry man, she's kinda hot."
Sam rolled his eyes. He had to admit it though, she was. She was like a woman from an old movie. Curvy, not like the rail thin girls Dean usually always picked up at bars.
They looked around the room for a few minutes. Family photos from different years were on the mantle, showing Mina, her parenst, and a younger boy who they assumed was a little brother.
"If we're at her parents house, where are her parents?" Sam whispered.
"Maybe she killed them." Dean shrugged.
"Maybe they're on vacation." My voice made them both jump. I had re entered the room, now in lounge pants and a hooded sweatshirt.
"Um, sorry, miss, we have to consider all possibilities." Agent Kottak stammered.
I shrugged, sitting down on an armchair. "You can call them if you'd like. They're in France right now for the winter. Mom wanted to fly home when she heard about what happened, but I told her no. It's fine. Once the crime scene is cleared, I'll get some friends to help me move... back here, I guess."
Agent Roth sat down opposite me, on the sofa. "Miss Miles, what DID happen last Tuesday night?"
"You can call me Mina." I paused. "I don't know what happened. Everything was normal. I watched my shows, the cat was being weird, I took a shower, and I went to bed. When I woke up in the morning, everything except my house was destroyed."
"And you didn't hear any of this?" Roth pressed. I shook my head. "Nothing? Buildings were falling around you and you didn't even wake up?"
"I take two sleeping pills at night. I was pretty out." I thought about it. "Though I never thought they'd knock me out so much that I would sleep through something like that."
"That IS a pretty deep sleep." Kottak admitted. He crouched down near me. "What we really need to know, though, are what all of the symbols painted around your apartment are for."
I'm sure I gave him a strange look. I felt like I did. What was he talking about? "Symbols?"
Roth produced his cell phone, where he had captured a few images of the glowing inscriptions.
I shook my head. "Those weren't there when I left."
Roth gave me a hard look. "Are you sure? This is under blacklight. You painted these so no one could see them. To protect yourself from what?"
"I have NO IDEA what those things are." A feeling of panic was rising into my throat. "I swear, I've never seen them before." I looked from Agent Roth's suspicious eyes to Agent Kottak's more puzzled ones. "Wait... protect me from what?"
Kottak took a deep breath. "Everything, as far as we can tell."
"What kind of FBI Agents are you two? Is this like, X-Files shit or something?" I was not happy about this sudden new development.
"No, the X-Files is a show. This is real life." Roth said drolly, like he'd had to explain this a thousand times before.
"I... I think I need some time to myself, gentlemen. If that's all for tonight." I stood up. Roth started to speak. "I'm not leaving town, if that's what you're going to say. I have a job I sort of need to keep. To pay rent on an apartment I technically don't have."
"I was going to say to stay safe. If anything weird happens, call us." Roth handed me a business card. The two agents left.
They had made a quick stop back at the motel to change into regular clothes, and were back out in the Impala, staking out Mina's parent's house, within the hour. They could see lights being turned on and then shut off between rooms, and everything appeared all right.
"I don't know, Dean. I got the feeling that she didn't know much about what was going on." Sam rifled through the police report. "According to this, the whole building went down at about 3am. It took several days for fire to get to all of the bodies, but even the ones who had made it outside before the building fell were dead." He flipped over some photos. "You'll probably want to see this."
Dean glanced over at the picture. "Jesus, man. Warn me before you show me something like that!" He winced, yet reached over and took the stack of photos. Every person appeared to have either been torn to shreds, or their necks very obviously broken. "These aren't crush injuries. These are hell hounds and, I'd assume, demons."
Sam nodded. "So a bunch of demons demolish a building full of people to get to one woman? That's a little, well, grand, for a few demons, don't you think? They usually just wait and try again later."
Dean chewed the inside of his lip. "Maybe they went after her first." He paused, thinking. "They obviously couldn't get in, got pissed, hulked out, and destroyed everything around them. Or at least killed the humans. I'm not sure how some demons could knock out a building like that."
Sam was thoughtful. "Maybe Cas would know."
The sound of feathered wings rang through the car, and a man dressed in a dishevelled trenchcoat appeared in the backseat. "Hello Dean. Sam." The man said in a slightly monotone voice, nodding at them both in turn.
"Cas." Dean said, while Sam nodded back in acknowledgment. "Uh, we seem to have a small problem we could use some help with."
"I'll see what I can do. What is this problem?"
"I'd better just show you. It's at the Valley Apartments-" and with that, Sam was left alone in the car, as Cas vanished, taking Dean with him. He didn't have to wait long. They were back in a few minutes, transported back into the car.
"This is not good, my friends. Not good at all." Cas shook his head. "That girl is in serious danger. Those sigils and symbols- some of them are ancient. Someone took a great deal of time to protect her from every evil they could think of. Angels, too."
"How did you see them then?" Sam asked.
"Dean showed me the photgraphs on your cellular phones." Cas stated matter- of- factly. "And I peeked from the door."
"So what do we do? How are we even sure she didn't paint those herself, and she's hiding something bad? And what had enough power to destroy a friggin building?" Dean was looking tired and pissed off at the same time. "How do we know she didn't destroy the building?"
"I really don't think she did it herself, Dean. She seemed really freaked out." Sam pointed out.
"Sam, we can't just assume the best about her because she doesn't look like a horrible evil son of a bitch." Dean shot at him. "We've both had that problem before, remember."
"Let me go see her." Cas said.
"Dude, you will freak her the hell out if you just poof into the room in your Columbo coat." Dean shot Cas a look.
"I was going to wait until she was sleeping to look." Cas looked puzzled. "Obviously not while she's awake. That would be unwise."
Three hours later, they decided it would be safe for Cas to have a visit. All of the lights had been off for over two hours, and they figured her sleeping pills would have kicked in by now. Sam was asleep, leaning against the passenger side door.
"Now you know, she knows things are after her. If you jump in there and she isn't asleep, you're going to have to think really quickly." Dean told Cas as he was preparing to jump.
"I'll tell her I'm an angel of the Lord." Cas replied, as if that were the most reasonable answer in the world. Then he was gone, before Dean could tell him that was not a good plan.
About ten second after that, they heard screaming coming from Mina's parent's house, a light flicked on, and gunshots rang out.
Sam jolted awake. "Is Cas in there?"
Dean nodded. "Shit, shit, SHIT!"
They both leapt from the car, and bolted into the house. Sam kicked down the front door and they raced up the stairs.
"Mina? Mina, it's Sam, uh, Agent Kottak! Don't shoot!" He peered around the bedroom door. I was backed into a corner, a shotgun aimed at Cas, who was still standing in the middle of the room. He'd taken the buckshot like a champ and was still standing, barely phased. I saw Agent Kottak's face and was both relieved and suspicious at the same time.
"Come in here with your hands up." I growled. He obliged. "And the other one. Agent Roth." Agent Roth followed sheepishly, though I noticed he had set his shotgun against the outside of the door jamb just in case.
"What the FUCK is going on? This pervert got into my house somehow and I shot him, I fucking shot someone..." I trailed off, not sure whether to feel badly or triumphant at shooting the intruder, and the brothers looked at each other, horrified. They probably thought I was going to cry. But I pulled myself together. "But he didn't DIE. Who does that? Why aren't you arresting him?"
"Well, our hands are up and you have a gun on us." Sam/Kottak shrugged. "And-"
"I'm an Angel of the Lord." Cas said. "I already told you. I'm here to figure out what to do with you."
I looked at the two "agents". "See? He's fucking nuts, and he's in my room in the middle of the night."
"He actually is an angel." Roth said sheepishly.
"What?"
"He's an angel. Cas is an angel." Roth said louder. "You know... X-files stuff."
"That's... ridiculous."
"You said yourself, he should be dead by now. He took two shotgun blasts from three feet away." Sam pointed out. He edged towards the bed, hands still up. I looked at him suspiciously, but didn't shoot. "You're out of shells. That won't do you any good anymore."
He was right. I sighed and thrust it into his hands. "Fine. Now what? I have two agents and a fucking angel in my room, devil signs painted all over my apartment, and... and what? What the hell is going on? Will someone please tell me? Because until today, I thought I was the only non victim of a really weird earthquake or something."
The FBI agents gave each other a look. Sam turned back to me. "Give us a minute, okay?" They retreated to the hallway, Cas in tow. I could only hear muffled voices. I scrambled to the edge of the bed and grabbed my knife from under the mattress.
"Well?" Dean asked Cas.
"Well, what? I got shot. It stung a little."
"Not that. Is she a demon or something weird?"
"No, she's not a demon. But... I sense something uncommon about her. I don't recognize it."
"Is she dangerous?" Sam questioned.
"Not to us."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Dean frowned.
"She doesn't know about any of this. She doesn't know what she is, whatever she is. She's very much a victim." Cas explained.
"Great." Dean put his hand to his forehead. "Something has her in their crosshairs, and we don't know who she is, what she is, or why."
"I think we should tell her who we are, Dean. We can't just leave her here. They'll come for her again. I'm surprised they haven't already." Sam whispered.
"Like, blow our cover?"
Sam nodded. "We need to protect her. Which may mean keeping her with us for a while."
Dean thought this through. "I guess it's the best choice we've got."
The three walked back into my room. They saw that I had replaced the shotgun with a surprisingly large knife and was back in the corner, eyes on the door.
"Calm down princess, no one is here to hurt you." Roth sighed and took a seat on the rocking chair in the corner. "You gotta listen to us though, because shit is getting weird and it's going to get weirder."
Sam leaned against the wall near the door. "Listen, I... we aren't FBI agents. I'm Sam Winchester, and this is my brother Dean. And... you met Cas."
I took this all in. "That makes sense. "The Scorpions" aliases were a little weird." I paused. "So why are you here?"
"We hunt things." Dean said, seeming amused that the mucisian names hadn't gone unnoticed. "Things that hunt people. Evil things."
"And something is hunting you." Sam said. "Someone went to a lot of trouble to get into your house and paint all of those symbols, or you'd be dead right now."
"So, what, you catch bad guys? But you aren't cops?"
Dean shook his head. "No. We hunt monsters. And sometimes angels, if they're dicks."
Suddenly, there was a sound on the steps of the house. We all turned towards the hallway.
"Demons." Whispered Cas, stepping into the hallway and immediately getting thrown against a wall. He got back up, grabbed the demon by the face, and threw it to the ground as it's head lit up and exploded.
"What the FUCK?!" I shrieked from the bedroom as Dean raced into the hallway.
Dean made it into the hallway. There were four more demons on the stairs, their black eyes taunting. "Two for you, two for me" Dean looked at Sam. "Seal the doors and windows!"
Dean launched himself over the first two demons on the stairs, tackling the last two onto the floor and sliding across the tile into the foyer. He pulled out his knife. "Time to die, assholes." They both lunged at him, and he ducked, jamming the knife up into the jaw and through the skull of the first one. His body glowed orange and he slumped onto the ground. The second demon, this one looking like a small mexican man in a trucker hat, grabbed him from behind and threw him across the room. He hit a mirror, shattering it, and fell to the floor. Before he could get up, Cas had dispatched of the demon.
Upstairs, Sam had locked himself in the room with me. As the demons tried to knock down the door, he hastily scrawled something called a devil's trap on the floor in a pink magic marker he'd found in a drawer. When they finally burst through the door, they found themselves stuck, apparently. He dispatched them with a long string of latin; black smoke billowed out of their mouths and their bodies hit the floor with two resounding thuds. My eyes nearly fell out of my head.
We heard the window smash open, and turned around to see a large, black-eyed man climbing in. I did the only thing I could think of- I leaped on the intruder, jamming the knife I had been holding deep into it's throat. The demon, a large man, stopped and looked at me with his black eyes. He smiled, pulled the knife out slowly, and tossed me against the wall. I fell onto the floor, the wind knocked out of me. Sam charged at it, tackled it, and shouted "Dean, KNIFE!"
Dean was at the door in a flash. He only hesitated a moment, to make sure he stabbed the demon, and not his brother, and thrust his apparently magical knife into his side. Once again, orange light flashed through the body and it fell on top of Sam, it's hands falling away from his throat. He pushed it off of him. "We'd better go."
I nodded. I threw some clothes and a laptop in a bag, pulled on some boots, and we hightailed it to the Impala, my cat carrier in tow. When we were all sitting inside, I looked around. "Where's Cas?"
"He went to check on a few things. He'll be fine." Dean rassured me. "He's pretty fast... did you seriously just bring a cat into my car?"
We'd been driving for hours, back to some "bunker", and I was, to be honest, way too tired to even wonder who these strange men were and where they were taking me. Everything had happened so fast, and they HAD saved my life. If they decided to become maniacs and kill me now, at least I hadn't been killed by demons.
They had been trying to explain to me exactly what they did, how it was the family business, how monsters existed. I was giving them the benefit of the doubt, having seen a man appear in my room who was immune to shotgun blasts, and a total of six men with black eyes who seemed to not be able to be killed except with a special knife or some weird latin exorcism. What was really confusing me, though, was why anyone was after me at all, and who had tagged my home with weird ass symbols.
"So you're telling me that someone got in, spray painted my house with weird shit, and left, and I never knew?"
"It could have been something, not someone. A benevolent being maybe?" Sam suggested.
"A benevolent being? Are you hearing yourself Sammy?" Dean groaned. "This isn't "Touched by an Angel."
"So like, something Toothfairied into my house then?" I was growing impatient.
"Noooooooo NOT like the Tooth Fairy!" Both brothers said in unison, shaking their heads emphatically.
"You're kidding me. There's a Tooth Fairy?"
"Two, that we know of. And you do NOT want to run into them." Dean shuddered.
"You two killed a Tooth Fairy?" I really wasn't prepared for this. I sold lingerie for a living. I'd seen a lot of weird stuff, but this was new terrirtory.
"No, technically we never saw him. We saw his handiwork though." Sam told her.
"Him?"
"That one was a "him", and believe me, if you lose a tooth, just throw that shit off a bridge or something." Dean shook his head. "Tooth Fairies are dicks."
I nodded. "But you guys don't know why this... entity... would have put protection spells around me? Or why things would be after me in the first place? Like, no idea at all?"
Sam and Dean exchanged sideways glances. I thought I saw Dean shake his head "no", almost imperceptibly, but I may have been mistaken.
"We aren't sure yet." Sam turned around to look at me reassuringly, pushing a lock of brown hair behind his ear. "But we'll find out. We have a library in our bunker. I'll find out for you. I promise.
After being forced to drop my cat off at a friend's house in the middle of the night, without any explanation other than that I "had to leave town quickly", I had fallen asleep in the backseat of the Impala. I didn't know how long we'd been driving, but when I opened my eyes, light was pouring in the windows, and both men in the front seat were awake. They had changed places, and now the tall, shaggy, handsome one, Sam, was driving. Dean looked tired, his profile showing drooping eyelids on his chiseled face. He turned to Sam. "We need to get some breakfast, Sammy. And coffee. A lot of coffee."
Sam nodded. "I'm pretty sure we're far enough away. Not sure how long it'll take for someone to find those bodies."
Like clockwork, my cell phone began to ring. I looked at the screen- it was my mother. I was about to answer it when it was snatched out of my hands. Dean gave me an exasperated look, took the battery out of it, and threw it out the car window.
"What the hell did you do that for?" I asked him. "That was my mom! She's probably worried now. I'm sure someone has called them to tell them there are like, 6 dead bodies in their house. And that I'm NOT in there."
"You think whoever is looking for you can't trace a call?" Dean snapped.
"I have no idea what demons can and can't do. None at all. Because until yesterday, they didn't exist."
"Calm down, guys. There's a town a few miles ahead. We'll get breakfast, coffee... everyone will feel better." Sam didn't even look at either of us as he drove. He just sighed. "But really, you can't call your parents on a cell. We'll get you a new one, to talk to us. But payphones only, and only as we're leaving town, for anyone else."
"You guys sound like spies." I shook my head. "It makes sense though, I guess. But those guys back at my house didn't seem very smart."
"They don't send the smart ones to the front lines, sweetheart. They send the dumb ones. They figured five or six morons could handle one female alone in her house." Dean leaned back against the seat, closing his green eyes. "They'll send more next time. Probably a lot more."
"Because I had people with me?"
"Because you had us with you." Dean still had his eyes closed. "We're sort of..."
"Infamous." Sam completed his sentence. "We're on the demon's most wanted list." He paused, taking an offramp. "She held her own pretty well." He added to his brother, glancing back at me through the rearview mirror.
"Some freak was climbing through my window. What else was there to do but stab him?" I asked.
Dean opened his eyes. "You tried to gank a demon?" He raised his eyebrows. I nodded. Dean thought about this for a few seconds. "Good girl. At least we don't have to worry about you freezing up."
Sam chuckled. "Plus, she pumped a few rounds into Cas."
Dean smiled. "We'll also have to be careful not to startle her. Ever."
I just sat back, watching the miles roll by. I figured we were in Nevada somewhere, judging by how ugly it was. I was glad the guys didn't think I was a weenie, but really... they lived this way? Day in and day out? Sure, I watched detective shows and action movies, but this was ridiculous. No one actually did all of this stuff in real life. Not more than once anyway. And demons? What the hell was going on?
We drove a while longer, and pulled up to a small diner on a dusty main road. Getting out, we entered the diner and found a seat. The brothers sat opposite each other. I sighed. I had to sit next to one of them. I slid into the booth next to the big one. I felt like he was a little more even-keeled than his brother.
We all ordered coffee, and Sam pulled out his laptop and set it on the table. After a few minutes, he let out a low whistle and gave the screen a disheartened look.
"What?" Dean and I asked in unison.
"Well... they didn't find the bodies."
"That's good, right?" I asked.
"Not really. They think you're missing. And demons cleaning up bodies from a crime scene is just... weird. They never do that." Sam scanned the article. "They say it looks like you were abducted."
"They'll figure out I wasn't pretty quickly. I left my cat at Sharon's."
"Then they'll think you're running." Dean got quiet as the waitress brought the coffee. We all ordered, and she walked away. "Either they'll think you're running because you're scared, or because you did something wrong."
"They'd better not. Something demolished my apartment complex, killed all of my neighbors, and then tried to kill me!" I was getting upset. "I had nothing to do with it."
"About that... your neighbors..." Sam trailed off. "We don't think they died when the buildings fell."
"More demons?" I asked. Sam nodded.
"And hellhounds." Dean added. "Which are exactly what they sound like. Only they're invisible."
"Because of course they are. Invisible dogs. From hell." I muttered to myself. Like this could get any weirder. Sam put a reassuring hand on my back. A tingling sensation shot up my spine, but I ignored it. Now was hardly the time to flirt.
"I'm sorry, Mina. This sucks, I know. But we'll figure it out."
"You know I've never done anything that would make anyone want to kill me. At least I don't think so. Sure, I may have a short temper, and I might have hit that guy in that nightclub once. But he grabbed my friend's ass..." I took a breath and continued, knowing I was rambling and not caring. "I manage a lingerie store at the mall." At that statement, Dean seemed to perk up a bit. I ignored it. "I pay my taxes, I only have one speeding ticket. I had a Ouija board when I was like, ten. But fucking demons? I can guarantee you I have never screwed over a demon."
"You never made a deal at a crossroads?" Dean asked.
"What? Like in that Ralph Macchio movie from the eighties?"
Sam nodded. "Yeah, kind of exactly like that. Only with more kissing."
"And way less epic guitar solos." Dean added.
I looked from one brother to the other strangely. Apparently thinks could get weirder, with kissing crossroads demons. "Um, no. I haven't made out with any demons at a crossroads." I waited while the server set our plates down, gave us a strange look, and left. "You have to kiss a crossroads demon? Crossroads demons exist?"
The two men nodded. "How do you think Robert Johnson got all his fame?" Dean asked.
"He was dead before he got famous. And I didn't actually believe that legend."
"Apparently the deal didn't get specific enough." Dean dug into his plate of eggs and bacon. "Oh my God, Bacon, I've missed you."
"Dean, you had bacon yesterday morning." Sam pointed out. He had ordered oatmeal with a side of fruit.
"It's been too long." Dean replied.
I ate my french toast in silence. Were these two for real? They seemed like nice guys, but their banter made them seem a little... incompetent. If they hadn't saved me the night before, I wouldn't be betting anything on them.
We'd been driving a few more miles when Cas suddenly appeared in the backseat next to me. I jumped and nearly spilled my soda.
"Hey! No scaring the passengers!" Dean yelled gruffly, eyeing Castiel through the mirror. "And no spilling drinks in my car" he addedto me.
"Apologies, Miss." Cas turned to me. "I have good news, and bad news." With that, he sat, staring at me.
"Ummmm." I furrowed my brows at him. Was there something wrong with this man? Angel?
"Cas is still getting the hang of the whole being normal thing." Sam amusedly explained, turning to me.
"Give us the news, Cas. Come on." Dean said.
"Very well. I have it under authority that humans like hearing bad news first, so that the good news can then alleviate the bad news." He grinned. "There are angels hunting you as well." He said matter-of-factly.
"Fucking WHAT?" I gaped at him. "Why are angels hunting me? Aren't you guys the good ones?"
"No, angels are friggin dicks." Dean muttered under his breath.
"I heard that Dean. And while I do not condone many things my bretheren do, I can't in good faith let you keep calling them... no, you're right. They are what you call "dicks." Cas turned to me. "However, the good news. I can shield you from their sight."
"How?"
"NO!" Both brothers yelled in unison. Dean slammed on the breaks and Sam lunged over the backseat to try to grab Cas, but he had already pushed his hand through the skin on my ribs. His hands were inside my flesh! White hot fire shot through me, and I heard myself begin to scream. Then everything went black.
When I came to, my ears were ringing and I became vaguely aware of being in someone's strong arms, my head resting against a chest. I could hear an argument going on outside. I tried to stretch my legs- I couldn't. I was still in the car.
"You have to warn people before doing shit like that, Cas. She's friggin passed the fuck out, and you did that to her. That is your fault." I heard Dean yelling angrily.
"I did what had to be done. I did it to you and Sam. And Bobby. You were all right with it." Cas replied flatly, though sounding slightly confused.
"We were, but we were freaking startled. That shit hurts. You need to ask first from now on. It's called consent, dude. That's a big thing with humans!"
Their argument continued, but my mind was hazy and it now sounded far away. The pain in my chest had subsided to a dull burning sensation, like a raw sunburn. I opened my eyes. Sam was in the back seat with me, holding me close and wiping sweat from my forehead with a bandana. He seemed relieved when I looked up at him.
"Hey." He said.
"Hey yourself." I let out quietly. "Are my ribs burned?" I tried to sit up. He stopped me.
"Hold up there. Take it easy. And no, they aren't burned, exactly. You aren't hurt."
"What the hell did he do to me?" I asked, leaning back against his solid chest.
"He inscribed symbols on your ribcage. Burned them there, I guess you could say." Sam sighed. "Dean and I have them too. And our uncle had them. They protect you from angels. They can't track you."
"Did he jump attack you guys too?"
"Yeah, pretty much. Cas isn't very subtle."
"Did you pass out?"
"Uh... no." Sam saw my crestfallen look. "But hey, don't feel bad, or weak. We've taken a lot of beatings and been through, well, hell. We're used to that kind of unpleasantness. You aren't."
"I can still hear them outside. Is there going to be an angel vs human brawl out there?" I smiled to myself, enjoying the thought of Cas getting hit. Suddenly I didn't feel so bad for hitting him with buckshot twice the night before. I began timidly touching my ribs. They seemed to be okay.
"Probably not. Dean might be cocky, but he knows Cas would win..." Sam trailed off. I had sat up and lifted the hem of my shirt, and was gingerly poking at my ribs. I realized he could see just the hint of the bottom of my bra. I ignored him, decided everything looked normal, even though I still felt like I had a sunburn under my skin.
"Cas is pretty strong, huh?" I looked up, and caught Sam looking. He turned red. Nodding, he started to climb out of the car.
"You have no idea... I'd better go break this fight up." He was about to close the door when he turned back and awkwardly said "Glad you're okay!"with a big grin that showed off his straight white teeth.
Cas had departed a while ago. After a muffled conversation outside of the car, the Winchesters had gotten back in and waited for Castiel to speak with Mina. He'd apologized for the agony he had put her through, though she got the impression he didn't really seem to understand what the problem was exactly. There had been a problem and he had solved it. Now it was just Sam, Dean, and Mina, driving through the desert. They were in eastern Nevada, and Sam was looking up something on his cell phone.
"We need to stop in the next town." Sam glanced at Dean, who nodded. Mina was asleep in the backseat, huddled up under Sam's big jacket. It was November and really cold in the desert.
I felt the car turn as they exited the highway, and drove through a sleepy little town. Pulling up in front of a building, the brothers turned around.
"So, uh, Mina..." Sam started, looking a little worried about what he was about to say. "We stopped here because..."
"Because you're getting a tattoo." Dean finished. He smirked. "And from what Sammy here tells me, it ain't your first, so it shouldn't be an issue." He raised his eyebrows and wiggled them at Sam. Sam gave him an angry and embarrassed look.
"I'm what? Excuse me?" I shook my head. "Why the hell am I getting a tattoo?" The brothers shot each other a look, and both pulled the collars of their shirts to the left, revealing large black tattoos on their chests.
I wasn't one to scoff at the sight of some really nice chests, but I had better things to worry about right now. "So... you have matching tats. That's cute, really guys, but I just met you. I don't think I need to join the Mickey Mouse Club just yet."
"They're anti-possession tattoos." Dean told her.
"The demons can't get inside of you if you have this." Sam explained. "I can show you in a book once we get back to our library, but you need this. We could just get you a necklace, but those can come off, get lost, be taken off..."
"From what we saw at your apartment, every major baddie may be after you. Possession is NOT a pretty end to all of this." Dean opened his door. "So are we gonna do this or what?"
I sighed and extracted myself from the backseat, handing Sam back his coat. He shook his head, indicating that it was cold and I should keep wearing it. We all trudged into a small tattoo shop on the corner. The sign above it said "Ash's Tattoos and Piercings." Dean smiled. "Ash's, huh?" He glanced at Sam. "That's a good sign, I'd say."
Sam nodded. "gotta be good karma. It has a good BBB review too. Very hygienic." They walked in, the door jingling. It was very clean inside, with walls hung full of flash art. A small, muscular man with a pierced cheek came out of the back room.
"Hi... our friend here wants to get a tattoo." Dean gestured at me. I smiled and nodded, trying to act like it was the best idea ever.
"Sure thing. You guys came at a good time. Today's been pretty slow." The man smiled, showing a missing tooth but a genuine face. "My names Ash."
We introduced ourselves. "So, what is it you want tattooed?" Ash asked me. I looked over to Sam, who produced a piece of paper with the anti-possession symbol on it. He handed it to Ash.
Ash looked at it, shrugged, and went to start setting up his equipment. "Where do you want it?"
I wasn't sure. "Does it matter where, or how big?" I whispered to the brothers.
Sam shook his head. "Not really. Just big enough so none of the lines blur. It has to be exactly like it is on the paper."
"On my inner arm. The size it is on the paper. Maybe a little smaller. But the symbol has to be exact." I told the man. I took a seat in the chair and he began to work.
"Dude, come on, what tattoos does she have?" Dean and Sam were standing outside the shop, waiting for Mina's tattoo to be done. He'd been wondering about it since Sam had bolted from the Impala earlier with the goofiest look on his face, and he'd learned that Sam had seen a bit of what was under Mina's shirt.
"Dean, I already told you, I didn't get a good look. Some flowers, and a tiger I think. It was all up her side." Sam ran a hand over the back of his neck and tucked some hair behind an ear. "It wasn't a big deal."
"You are such a bad liar. Such a bad liar." Dean smiled, his eyes crinkling. "I see what's going on, Sammy!"
"Dean, we met this girl yesterday. There is literally nothing going on. I don't even know her." Sam replied. "We are just two freaks she is riding along with so she doesn't get killed, and with Cas, that's like making her ride in a clown car. Now is not the time for either of us to pull any shenanigans."
"It's been a while since you've had any shenanigans, Sammy." Dean stated dryly. "It might be the best time for some shenanigans."
"It hasn't been that long. There was that waitress in Tempe. And the librarian in Atlanta."
"Both of those were months ago, dude. And as awesome as it is that you made it with a librarian IN a library, it's been a pathetically long time." Dean knew he was bugging his brother, but he was trying to.
"Not all of us want to bang the first gymnast we happen upon in a shitty bar, Dean." Sam was tired, and he was getting near his Dean-bullshit limit.
Dean put up his hands. "Alright. Fair enough. Just saying... she ain't bad, Sammy."
"Yeah, I think you've already told me she was hot twice." Sam looked down at his phone. "Shit."
Dean raised an eyebrow. "What now?"
"We drove right into a werewolf problem, it looks like." Sam was reading something on the browser. "Three bodies found, missing hearts. Wild animal attacks."
"We definitely stumbled onto a werewolf problem." Dean looked around. "Does this town even have a name? Where the fuck are we?"
"Boonsville."
"Figures."
"Well, what do we do? Do we hunt it? I mean, what do we do with Mina? We can't exactly leave her alone, and we can't exactly take her with us." Sam sighed. "This is bad timing."
"We can call Cas. Have him stay with her. Find a motel." Dean said. Then he paused. "Scratch that. There is no way she'll hang out with Cas all night after the shit he pulled earlier."
"Yeah, we're used to him. She's not. She'll think we left her with Dexter dressed as John Constantine."
"I'm impressed you know who Constantine is, Sammy." Dean laughed.
"I don't live under a rock, man."
When I was done, Dean went in to pay for the tattoo. I climbed into the backseat, and Sam slid into the front seat. "Well, lets see it." He said. "How's it feel?"
"A lot less painful than sigils being burned onto my ribs, that's for sure." I smiled tiredly. "It's getting dark. Are we going to drive all night?"
"Uh, about that. No. I think we're staying in town." Sam ran a hand through his hair and smiled wanly at me. "We might have to go on a hunt tonight."
"Is something chasing us?"
"No, not that I know of. But... this town has a werewolf problem. And since we're here..."
"Wait. You're taking me to hunt a werewolf?" I asked. "Werewolves are real too?"
"Almost anything you can think of is real, sorry to say." Sam leaned against the window. "But we could let you stay at the hotel."
I shook my head. "No. Absolutely not. I have demons after me, and angels, and God knows what else. I'll be scared shitless by myself at a hotel in the middle of nowhere."
Dean appeared at the driver's side door and climbed in. "Alright, no possession for you!" He smiled at me. "And now we all match!" He tried to lighten the mood. He failed.
"I'm going with you. I'm not staying in a hotel to become lunch for some demons." I informed him straight out.
"Werewolves are tough, Mina. You get bit, you turn. Then we have to kill you." Dean slid a sideways glance at Sam, who had suddenly become lost in thought. I wondered what that was about.
"So I won't get bit. Give me a huge ass knife, or a gun, or whatever you kill this shit with."
The Winchesters looked at each other, and then back at me. "I guess she's going, then." Dean said. "You're sticking close to one of us. The entire time." He warned her.
I nodded. "Just give me good weapons. I'll be fine."
We drove to an abandoned playground in the center of town. "The tattoo shop guy, he said the three victims were all found around here." Dean explained. We got out of the car, and crowded around the trunk. I nearly died when it was opened.
"You guys have a fucking arsenal back here." I said, steadying myself.
"Tools of the trade, princess. You know how to use any of these?" Dean looked at me over his shoulder as he rummaged around. It appeared to drive Sam nuts that the trunk was such a disaster.
I picked up a shotgun. "I can use this."
"No, you can't. Has to be a silver bullet for these guys." Sam said from behind me. I turned around. He shrugged. "They're a pain in the ass."
"Like most of what we kill." Dean handed me a revolver, with six shiny silver bullets in it, and an extra revolver just in case. "You done much shooting?"
"I've been to the range a few times. I can manage." I tucked one gun awkwardly into the back of my waistband and palmed the other. I still had the enormous knife from the night before, and grabbed it from the backseat.
Sam checked his gun and put it in an inside pocket, as did Dean, and both brothers pulled out machetes.
"The blades won't work to kill it- they'll just hurt it. If it jumps on you, stab it. Do not let it bite you." Dean explained. I nodded again. "Stay close to me. Sam, I'll circle around to the left, you to the right."
"Wouldn't bait be a better idea?" I spoke up.
"You want to be bait?" Sam asked me worriedly.
"No one's gonna be bait. But yes, that would be a good idea." Dean paused. "But no, you're not being bait."
I shrugged. "Just a thought. Make this go a little faster."
"No one is being bait." Sam growled, and stalked off.
Dean just looked at me. It was dark now, and he motioned for me to follow. Sam continued the other way, into a small copse of trees that surrounded the playground. Dean took off to the left, and I followed him.
We found a large rock to hide behind and wait, peering out at the playground. We'd been there a few minutes when I asked Dean a question. "Sam seems pretty sad. Is he alright?"
Dean nodded. "He'll be fine. He hasn't had the best experience with werewolves. For the record, he really didn't want you in danger out here."
I was quiet a moment. "Did you guys lose someone on a hunt?"
Dean sighed, realizing that I wasn't going to stop asking until he told me. "Sammy had a girlfriend, about ten years ago. Jess. She was killed by a demon. In front of him."
"That's awful."
"It gets worse. Sam went into full on mourning, didn't sleep, barely kept living. About a year after that, we're hunting a werewolf. He meets a woman named Madison. They clicked, you know? Sammy finally really felt something again."
"Was Madison bitten?"
"Madison was the werewolf all along." Dean stopped, and was silent a few minutes. "She didn't know at first. When we found out, we tried to cure her, but it didn't work. In the end, Sam did the kindest thing he could do."
"He killed her."
Dean nodded. "She asked him to."
We were silent again for a while after that, listening carefully. "What the... shit? Well, there's our bait." Dean muttered. A man had stumbled into the playground and fallen ungracefully onto a park bench. Probably drunk. "I guess it makes our job easier. That wolf isn't gonna pass up a snack it can get drunk off of, too."
It was only a matter of minutes before we heard prowling in the bushes to the left of them, and a lone canine figure darted out, approaching the bench. Dean stood, aiming his gun to shoot, when the drunk man sat up, and started calling out a name. "Murphy! Hey boy! How'd you find me here? Good boy!"
Thinking the man was mistaken, Sam, Dean, and I all bolted towards the dog from our posts around the woods. We were halfway there when the dog sat at the man's feet and began licking him. I let out a sigh of relief. The man looked at us strangely, saw the gun in Deans hand, and got up quickly to stumble home.
"Great." Dean sat on the bench.
"At least we didn't shoot that man's dog." Sam replied. "I mean, if we're looking for silver linings."
"Guys..." I caught sight of a shape darting out of the trees to my left. An enormous white dog. "Guys!"
It was gaining on us fast, and they turned to see what I was pointing at. It threw itself into the air, snarling, and lurched right at Sam. Two shots rang out into the cold night air as it took him down.
"Sammy, God damn it, did it get you?" Dean panicked, pulling the wolf from his brother. Sam had gotten in a good stab with his machete, but he hadn't shot it.
"No, you shot it first." Sam extracted himself from under the wolf and wiped his machete on the grass.
"I didn't shoot it. My gun jammed..." Dean trailed off and they both looked at me. Smoke was coming off of the end of my gun. "You double tapped that shit?"
"Isn't that rule number one or something?" I asked, wide eyed. I stupidly looked at my gun. I had moved much quicker than I thought possible. Thank God. It had been years since I'd fired a gun, and never in the dark at a moving target.
"Rule number one?" Sam asked.
"Zombieland." Dean and I replied at the same time.
I approached the large animal. "What do we do with it?"
"Bury it. We can't leave a giant dead werewolf in the middle of a playground." Dean smirked. "I mean we could, but it wouldn't be right."
The brothers dragged the beast into the forest, and Dean went back to the car to get shovels.
"Hey." Sam came up to me as we waited. I was shivering. He offered me his jacket, but I declined. After a few minutes, he wrapped a tentative arm around my shoulders to keep me warm. I let him. "Uh, thanks for saving me." He said, his breath sending puffs of mist into the cool night.
"No problem." I looked up at him. I'm tall, but he was a giant. His profile seemed solemn in the light of the full moon. I put my arm around his back. "I'm guessing you're usually not the one being saved."
Sam smiled. "It happens more often than I'd like to admit. I save Dean, Dean saves me, Cas saves both of us." We could hear Dean coming back through the woods and quickly separated.
Dean tossed us each a shovel. We dug a quick hole, rolled the beast into it, and covered it back up. Then we went back to the Impala. I was about to get into the back seat but Dean stopped me. "You obviously don't know much about hunter tradition." He said, pulling a cooler out of the trunk.
"Dean, I just learned werewolves existed two hours ago. I know nothing about hunter tradition. I can't even believe people do this shit for a living."
Dean and Sam smiled. Dean passed out a round of cheap bottled beer. They took a seat on the hood of the Chevy, motioned for me to join them, and we clinked our bottles together. "Congratulations, princess, on living through your first hunt." Dean nodded towards me.
"I'll drink to that." Sam smiled. I looked over at him and took a long drink of beer.
"Me too."
It was almost one AM when we pulled into a motel on the eastern edge of town. Sam went in to get a room for us. He came out with two room keys, and handed one to me. "The rooms are right next door to each other. They have a connecting door." I refused the key.
"Oh hell no. I'll sleep on your couch or something. I am NOT sleeping in a room alone."
"Are you sure? We can keep the door open." Sam looked confused, like he wanted to do what was the most chivalrous. "I mean, we're a couple of gross dudes. Don't you want your own bathroom?"
"Not really, no. I'm sure you gents can handle putting the toilet seat down while I'm there. I'll just sleep on the couch. It's not a problem." I pulled my knapsack from the backseat.
"Why don't you two take one room, and I'll sleep in the other." Dean was tired and getting annoyed. "I'll just run in if I hear anything." He shot a glance at Sam and seemed suddenly amused at himself. "Anything sinister." Then he winked.
Sam shot him back a look that said what the fuck, bro? But nodded in agreement. I shrugged. As long as I wasn't alone, I was happy with whatever sleeping arrangements they decided on.
We went into our separate rooms, and bid each other good night.
Dean sat down on his bed and took off his boots. He was surprised the hunt had gone so well. It had been a fairly easy hunt- very little research. He hated to admit that it may not have gone as well if Mina hadn't been there. His gun had jammed- Sam would have been fighting a werewolf off alone.
He wondered about this girl who'd been travelling with them. Was she for real? They hadn't met any non-hunter so sure about being useful on a hunt, since Jo. Dean felt his heart sink a little at the thought of Jo, but he shook it off, pulled off his shirt, and went into the bathroom to shower.
Sam let Mina take the first shower, and he stretched out on his bed and relaxed. He hated werewolf hunts. It always reminded him of Madison. He hadn't known her long, and it hadn't been a great 'love of a lifetime' or anything, but he'd really liked her. It could have developed into that- he would never know, and sometimes he thought that was what hurt the most. But every time a werewolf showed up he remembered how it felt pulling the trigger and feeling her life drain from her, and he took that anger out on every werewolf he came across. Until tonight, when he'd had his ass saved by Mina. He wondered what kind of training lingerie store managers were getting these days. That girl seemed tough, and like she gave no shits.
When I came out of the bathroom in my pajamas, I found Sam spread out on top of his comforter, snoring quietly. Poor guy was exhausted. I decided not to wake him. I saw that he had put salt at all of the entrances. I had forgotten what that was for, even though they'd explained it earlier. I retrieved an extra blanket from the closet, pulled it up over him, and then climbed into my own bed. Even though I was absolutely petrified of all of the unknown stuff out there that apparently knew about me and was hunting me, I couldn't keep my eyes open. I let myself drift off, knowing the man-giant was in the bed next to mine, and his compact, quick moving brother was just one unlocked door away.
The man-giant woke up really early. Like really, really early. I was snuggled up in my bed in the cheap motel in eastern Nevada, content and wanting to fall back to sleep, when I heard him climb out of bed. I tentatively opened an eye.
At some point during the night he had gotten up and changed into pajama pants. And no shirt. Damn, now I'm definitely awake, I thought as I sneakily watched him pad barefooted over to his duffel bag, grab some clothes, and head into the bathroom. He even had those hip-creases that every girl finds super hot.
I shook my head to clear my thoughts. As far as I knew, these two guys, though they were my best chance at not getting killed or demonized or whatever, were probably maniacs. Super hot maniacs, but maniacs. I turned to the bedside clock. 7am. Shit. I'd been asleep for less than 6 hours.
When Sam came out of the bathroom, he was wearing shorts and a tee shirt, and sat on the edge of his bed to put on some running shoes. I pretended to be asleep, stretched, and opened my eyes. "Morning" I said groggily.
"Morning." He smiled.
"You're up early."
"Morning jog." He finished tying his shoes. "You're welcome to come with me if you'd like."
I thought about this for a minute. If I were to have to fight legions of the undead off, or run from them, or whatever the hell these guys did on a regular basis, then an excersize regimen may not be a bad idea. I, however, shook my head. "I would like to, actually, but I didn't bring running shoes." I sighed. "And you'd laugh at me, because I haven't run since high school."
He seemed amused. "We can get you some running shoes today, if you want to run with me while you're with us. I'd never laugh at you." He got up. "I'll be back in an hour. Dean's right next door if you need him." He gestured to the open door connecting the two rooms. "He won't be up for hours. Not really a morning person." Sam winked and let himself out of the room.
I could go all day on that wink. Oh God, what was wrong with me? Focus, Mina, focus!
I lounged in bed a while longer. I was adding up facts. I didn't have much to go on. Demons and hell hounds attacked my home. Demons tried to get me at my parent's home. An angel of the Lord carved weird symbols on my ribs because "angels are dicks" and are apparently hunting me too. Did they all want me dead? Did they want to kidnap me? Did they think I could give them a good deal on lingerie? What the hell did all of these weird beings want with a lingerie store assistant manager? And seriously, the Tooth Fairy was a psycho and a dude?
After about half an hour of wracking my brain about all of this and coming to no conclusion, I got up. I got dressed. I'd brought one change of clothes. I was going to have to buy some clothing. But since I couldn't use a cell, I was fairly sure I was also not supposed to use my debit card. I checked my wallet. I had three hundred and six dollars on me. And seventy two cents. Looks like I was gonna be hitting the thrift shops.
I put on a pot of coffee, got dressed, made myself moderately presentable, and sat at the small table. When Sam came back, I was reading news reports about the happenings in Ridgecrest on my laptop. I quickly looked away when he came in the door. He was all hot and sweaty and... hot. Stop it. I told myself. Stop it stop it stop it. You don't know this man.
He nodded at me and went to shower. I continued reading. He came out a few minutes later, hair slightly dripping on the collar of a flannel shirt with sleeves rolled up to his mid forearms. "There's coffee." I said, nodding my head towards the hotel coffee pot. It's not bad." I watched him sniff it and give it a taste. "It's not good, either." I added.
"Let's go grab some, um, actual coffee." He made a face as he picked up the package that the coffee had been in. "This stuff expired in March."
I shrugged. "What about Dean?" I asked. I had heard him tossing and turning all morning, but he had stayed asleep.
"I'll leave a note. We'll probably be back before he gets up." Sam penned a message on a post it note, stuck it to Dean's bathroom door, and we took off.
"I passed a coffee shop on my run. It's about half a mile up the road. You okay to walk?"
I nodded. "Sure."
We walked in silence for about a quarter of a mile. It was friendly silence. Sam gave off a strange energy. He was easy to be around. He set me at ease. But I could feel an undercurrent of something in him that he obviously didn't let out. There was danger there, and he kept it buried very, very deep.
"Sam. What do you think the angels and demons want to do to me?" I finally asked. He knew way more about this stuff than I did.
He shrugged. "I really don't know. I mean, I have a lot of questions for you, that'll narrow it down a lot. But probably you either have something they want, are someone they want, or are someone they want dead." I just looked at him, my eyes gaping. "You asked." He said apologetically.
"But... angels?" I was dumbfounded. "I mean Castiel seems... off. But he seems nice enough. Angels aren't nice?"
"Angels are soldiers. They follow commands, and have very little emotion. If their commander wants you, they'll find you."
"Their commander would be God then?"
Sam shook his head sadly. "No one knows where God is."
This left me silent once again. We made it to the coffee hut, both ordered the biggest, most caffeine filled beverages we could, and then Sam paid. I had pulled out my wallet, but he insisted. "We did sort of kidnap you. I can at least pay for your coffee." He smiled. The girl behind the counter looked alarmed.
"He's kidding." I told her with a smile. "Totally kidding." However, once we had our coffees, we retreated back to the hotel just in case she decided he wasn't kidding and cops were called.
When we got back, we gingerly closed Dean's door. We sat at the table. Sam had pulled out his laptop and was also reading up on what had happened in my hometown, but on some sites I'd never heard of. He said they were hunter message boards. Even though it was totally weird being in a shitty town in Nevada with a strange set of brothers, a new tattoo, and too little sleep, it was kind of a cozy morning.
About an hour later, Dean tentatively knocked on the center door. "Are you crazy kids dressed?" He shouted. Sam rolled his eyes.
"Come in, Dean." Sam seemed annoyed but I could see the smallest upturn of a smile on his lips.
Dean poked his head in.
"Don't get excited. We closed the door so we wouldn't wake you while we were talking." I turned to Dean. "We brought you a coffee."
He rubbed his eyes. "Jesus, how long have you two been up?"
Sam and I looked at each other. "I got up at seven for a run."
"Of course you did." It was Dean's turn to roll his eyes now.
"I got up a little after that." I looked at the clock. "It's almost checkout time." It was 10:45.
The cozy morning with my new man-giant companion and his sleeping brother was over. We packed our bags, checked out, and loaded ourselves into the Impala. I didn't know it, but I was headed into an inquisition.
We stopped at a little diner for breakfast. Conversation was light. The brothers bickered good naturedly. When we got back in the car, though, it was all business.
"Listen, we don't want to seem like we're prying, but you have a lot of shit that is coming after you right now. You're as protected as you're going to get, especially with Cas on speed-dial." Dean started the car and just dove straight into the subject. "So we have to ask you a lot of stuff."
"Some of it might be personal." Sam added, a bit more gently.
I nodded slowly. "Okay... shoot."
"First of all, where the hell did you learn to shoot like that?" Sam asked. I could tell by the tone in his voice that he'd been wondering since last night.
I shrugged. "I don't know. I took a few classes at the range. I was a good shot."
"The werewolf was moving. And you shot him in the heart. Twice." Dean peered at her through the rear-view mirror. "In the dark."
"He wasn't that far from me. I don't know what to tell you guys. Beginners luck?"
"Fair enough." Dean replied. "We already established there's been no crossroads issues. Have you ever promised anything to someone in exchange for a favor?"
"Ummm you'll have to be more specific."
"He means like, have you promised your soul or some nefarious deed in exchange for someone to make a wish come true for you. Not like, trading a work shift for a Chipotle burrito." Sam explained.
"Oh. No."
"You sure?" Dean asked.
"Of course I'm sure. That's not the kind of thing you forget." I replied. "...Is it?"
"Not usually." Sam said. "Have you ever had long periods of time erased from your memory?"
"Only about two hours of my 21st birthday. But my best friend Sharon swore I didn't do anything stupid." I smiled. Dean also seemed amused at the thought and chuckled lightly.
"Were your parents together when you were born?" Sam asked. "I mean, like, are your parents your biological parents?" I nodded. "How sure are you?"
"Like, birth certificate sure." I replied.
Sam turned to Dean. "She probably isn't an antichrist then."
"WHAT?" I was not liking where this line of questioning was going. "A fucking antichrist?"
"Sometimes, a demon hitches a ride in a virgin body and gives birth. That offspring is called an antichrist." He shrugged. "Shit happens."
"Do you have any strange abilities?" Sam continued his line of questioning.
"Jesus, do you have a teleprompter up there or something? Where are you getting these questions?"
"I'm making them up as I go. And you didn't answer."
I paused. "Yes."
Both brothers' eyes were now on me through their mirrors.
"I can sometimes tell things before they happen. Nothing big. But like, I'll know if someone isn't coming in for work. Or I'll know what color my neighbor is going to be wearing the next day." I paused. "Does that even count? It's useless."
Sam thought for a minute. "It might count. It could be psychic power that isn't fully honed."
"Or it could be that her coworkers are predictable and her neighbor likes to wear purple... Any others?" Dean asked.
"Well... last night. When that werewolf attacked Sam. I've never moved so fast in my life." I sighed. "You both know I shouldn't have been able to make that shot. That's why you were asking earlier. I'm a good shot, but not that good."
The next few days were a blur of crappy diners, crappy motels, and a lot of driving. Each night we would rent two rooms, and I'd share a room with one of the brothers. Even though they said they "rock, paper, scissored" it, Sam always "lost" and had to sleep in my room and share a bathroom. I didn't mind. The man-giant made me feel safe. So did the knife under my pillow and the glock loaded with rock salt on my nightstand, though.
We were going to a bunker somewhere in Kansas, where they apparently lived. It didn't sound very homey to me, but these guys had a very different life than I was used to. It was exciting, even just the anticipation of a possible hunt. They apparently had an extensive library there where we could do some real research and find out why I was being hunted.
I was developing a relationship with each brother, thought it seemed like they tried their hardest not to get too close to the people they were meant to save. Dean was always there with his quick wit, and Sam with his dry humor that often went under-appreciated. They treated me nicely, and their suspicion of me had waned. It also hadn't hurt that I'd saved Sam from that werewolf.
The day after departing Nevada, we were in a small diner (again). I had taken my usual seat next to Sam. He was on his laptop, scanning sites while Dean and I chatted.
"I keep trying to think up relevant questions for you, but it's getting difficult." Dean took a big bite of a cheeseburger.
"You eat a lot of those. They're gonna kill you some day." I replied dryly. I was, to be honest, sick of questions. I wanted to get to the bottom of this as much as they did, but baring my soul to two hot strangers wasn't my idea of a great time.
"Honey, it isn't the cheeseburgers that are going to kill me." He winked. "My lucks gotta run out sometime."
"Hey guys." Sam interrupted us. "I found something. I think it's a haunting."
Dean perked up, and to be honest, so did I. Sam turned the screen so that we could both see it. As he did so, he let one arm fall down beside him in the booth. It brushed against mine, his hand settling against my knuckles for a split second. Sparks flew. Then he moved his arm, looking at me and seeming self conscious. I could feel my cheeks burning red.
"Three people dead, all from the same office. One caught in an elevator door...one locked in a bathroom that flooded... and one... am I reading this right?" Dean raised his eyebrows.
Sam nodded. "Strangled with his own shoelaces."
"I don't know a lot about this, but those deaths don't seem to have a lot in common." I chimed in. I was a quick learner usually, but this was a lot to take in.
"That's true, they don't. They might mean something to the victim, though." Sam explained.
"So do we head east and take this case, or go south to Kansas and find out what the hell is going on with Xena Warrior Princess over here?" Dean sunk another bite into his burger.
"There's no one on the case. We should find out what's going on before someone else gets killed. We've been keeping Mina hidden." Sam smiled. "Xena Warrior Princess..." he laughed under his breath. I elbowed him tenderly in the side. He elbowed me back.
"All right, enough grab-ass. Let's pay the bill and get going. Where is this haunting?" Dean threw some money on the table.
"Tulsa."
"Rednecks. Yay." Dean shook his head. "Does it seem like we're around a lot of rednecks lately?"
Sam nodded. "A lot of southern hunts, that's for damned sure."
"I really don't think I look like a Fed, guys." We were in the Goodwill in Tulsa, and I had on a brown power-suit with a nipped in waist and tan pinstripes, over a white shirt. Flats, because I wasn't running in heels, that would just be stupid. I was afraid to come out of the fitting room.
"I'm sure you look just as good as we do in our monkey suits." Dean called out. "Come on. Let's get out of here. These old ladies keep giving me the eye. They're looking at me like I'm lunch."
"I thought that was your thing, Dean."
"Not when they're geriatric." Dean sighed.
"Dean prefers gymnasts." Sam said, and I could hear his smile through the door.
"That was one time man!" Dean exclaimed. "But yeah, gymnasts are a lot of fun. You should try one sometime, Mina."
"I'll keep that in mind."
"Sam likes librarians." Dean added.
"DEAN!" Sam sounded tortured.
"Whatever. Just come out already. We need to get this show on the road." Dean practically ordered me out.
I stepped out of the fitting room. The guys just looked at me. Gave me the "up and down" look. "You look... totally legit, actually." Sam admitted.
"You're going to be our "trainee". So you can hang back. Take photos. Don't worry about saying anything." Dean told me as I purchased the suit and shoes.
"What if I come up with a relevant question?"
"Run it by us first."
"Right..."
After a visit to Kinko's, we pulled up at the offices of "Shelby, Shelby, and Moore, Inc." They apparently made paper products. Dean had gotten copies of the police report while I had tagged along with Sam to watch him make me a fake FBI badge. I was impressed. They really were quite efficient.
We flashed our badges at the receptionist. Sam asked to speak to the owner, and she called a number and directed us to the top floor. By this point I was sweating bullets. I was absolutely certain that this FBI ruse would not work.
The elevator opened onto a hallway, and at the end sat an opulent top floor office with wall to wall white carpeting, and mahogany furniture. And elderly bald man in an Armani suit sat behind a desk, worriedly looking at his computer.
Dean cleared his throat. The man looked up. "Ah, yes, come in." The man stood. "Please, have a seat. I'm Mr. Moore." He gestured at the two chairs in front of his desk. Dean took one, and Sam gestured for me to take the other. He stood behind us, secret-service style.
"We're agents Smith and Smith, no relation." Dean pointed to himself and Sam. "This is Agent Jett." He nodded at me. I took a look at my badge again. That fucker really had listed me as Special Agent Joan Jett... My eye began to twitch. "We're looking into a string of deaths at your offices lately."
"A series of accidents, really." Mr. Moore said. "Very, very unfortunate ones. But accidents. Why is the FBI involved?"
"We like to dot our I's and cross our T's." Sam spoke up from behind us. "Just checking out possibilities."
Dean nodded. "We have a few questions for you."
Mr. Moore nodded, but seemed puzzled. "Don't you people usually work in two's?"
Dean nodded. "Yes, sir, we do. Agent Jett here is in training. Best of her class at the academy." I smiled at him. It was nice to know I was top of a fake FBI academy class.
Mr. Moore again nodded. "Well, first it was Simmons. He got... well, the elevator got stuck. He tried to climb out and... it got unstuck. Real quick-like. Split the poor ol' boy in half." He shook his head. "Barely anyone will even take that elevator anymore. Not to say I blame them."
Sam was taking notes. "Was he alone in the elevator at the time?"
Mr. Moore nodded.
"And what about a Mr. Anderson?" Sam continued to write. He was taking on the role of the diligent fed. Not a real stretch.
"Mr. Anderson. That's a weird one." Mr. Moore scratched his head. "The bathroom filled with water. While he was apparently locked inside. Somehow the door didn't break down under all the pressure. And then Don Tartan. We found him hanging in the coat closet in his office. By his shoelaces. I'm assuming that one is a suicide, though."
Dean nodded. "Sounds like it. Were any of these people exhibiting any strange behavior? Depression? Seeing things? Hearing things?"
Mr. Moore started to tell them no, but I wasn't paying attention anymore. I could hear something. A woman's voice. It was coming from the hallway. I turned around to look towards the door, expecting someone to come in. No one did. Sam gave me an inquisitive look as I kept turning towards the door. Dean was still discussing a lack of strange occurrences with Mr. Moore.
I finally got up. Sam stopped me, putting a hand on my elbow. "Where are you going?" He whispered.
"You don't hear that?"
He shook his head "no." Then he turned to Mr. Moore. "Please excuse us for just a minute." And he and I left the room, his hand on my elbow. As we neared the door, the woman's wailing just got louder.
Once we were in the hallway, it was deafening. Sam still seemed really calm.
"You cannot tell me you can't hear that."
"Hear what?"
"A woman. She's crying."
He pulled out a weird little contraption that looked like a miniature computer motherboard.
"What is that?"
"An EMF reader. And it's off the charts." He looked at me. "You still hear her?"
I nodded. "I can't make out what she's saying though. She's just... crying." I braced myself against the wall. I kind of felt like crying now too. "She's in so much pain, Sam. She's been hurt."
"Do you see her?"
"No." I looked around. A slight shadow began to appear near the elevator. "Wait." It got a little more clear, but not much. "Yes. She's by the elevator." Sam followed where I was pointing but shook his head.
"I don't see her."
I suddenly realized what was happening. I went back into the office. Dean was finishing up speaking with Mr. Moore and was handing him his card. I walked up to the desk. "Mr. Moore, one last thing. Agent Smith may have asked this already but just to be clear. Has there been any deaths in the last few years? Of a woman who worked here?"
Mr. Moore seemed surprised. "Why, actually, yes. Three months ago, Leticia, our top accountant, was killed. Hit and run in the parking garage."
I nodded. "Thanks. We'll be in touch." Then I turned on my heel and exited the room.
"Can you tell me what the hell that was about?" Dean asked as he swung himself behind the wheel of his car.
"I had a hunch."
"You hijacked an investigation on a hunch?" He seemed pissed.
"Hear her out Dean. I think she's got something. The EMF reader was off the charts." Sam stuck up for her.
"I left because I heard a wailing out in the hall. First it was just a woman's voice, and it got louder and louder, and when it became obvious none of you could hear it, I went to check." I examined my nails, then met his gaze in the rear-view mirror.
"So that's why you left." He nodded. "Okay. Keep talkin'"
"By the time we got to the hallway she was screaming. I don't know what she was saying, but she materialized very faintly by the elevator. That's when I realized what's going on- how all these deaths are connected." I paused dramatically. Sam smirked. Dean was ready to crawl over the backseat and throttle me.
"AND?"
"They're all kinks."
"Kinks?" Dean repeated.
"Like sex, Dean."
"I know what a fucking kink is!" He frowned.
"Simmons liked elevator sex. Anderson, bathroom sex. And Tartan... I guess auto-erotic asphyxiation." I put up my palms. "Something is killing these men in the way that they got their rocks off."
Sam looked impressed. "To be honest, Dean, that's so messed up, I'd have wagered money on you figuring it out first. But it totally makes sense."
Dean shot him a look. "So that woman, Leticia. You think she's coming back and ganking old work lovers? Do we know who killed her?"
Sam was looking up info on his phone. He shook his head. "No one was ever identified or came forward."
"So maybe she doesn't know either. But she figures it was one of her honeys." Dean started the car.
"Where are we going?" I asked.
"Time for your first salt-and-burn." He replied, pulling onto the road.
"But don't we want to find out who killed Leticia?" I asked. I could hear her wailing in my mind. The woman was in agony.
"Not our problem." Dean stared directly ahead.
Mina had gone to use the restroom at the Biggerson's they'd stopped at for dinner. Dean leaned over the table, speaking in hushed tones to Sam.
"You didn't hear a woman or see a woman in the hallway earlier?" Dean asked him.
"Why are you whispering? She's not even here." Sam looked at Dean, his salad fork halfway to his mouth. "But no, I didn't. The EMF reader-"
"I know, I know, all over the place." Dean sighed. "Doesn't it make you wonder though? Who IS this chick? We got absolutely nothing, and lets not beat around the bush. We usually pick up on things. But she straight up heard and saw it."
Sam shrugged. "Maybe she's a psychic. Either way, it helps us out a lot."
"Maybe. There's gotta be more to it that that though. Every beastie in the world doesn't try to find a garden variety psychic."
I have to admit, salting and burning a body is not the most fun thing, or the most exciting thing. It's a lot of digging, which sucks. I was worried the entire time that we'd be arrested, and how I would explain to my mother that I'd used my one phone call to get her to bail me out for grave-robbing. And in the end, they poured some salt and lighter fluid on poor Leticia's bones, and lit her up.
Dean had been conversing with someone via text for the past few hours. When we got to our motel late that night, he just dropped us off. "I gotta go. Garth needs some help with a Djinn a few counties over." Dean stated as Sam and I extracted ourselves from the car.
"Why don't we just come with you?" Sam asked him, his eyebrows raised.
"Because we can't take her on a hunt for a Djinn." Dean looked at me. "No offense, but the hunts we've been on have been relatively tame. A Djinn might eat you for breakfast. And lunch and dinner. That's what they do. And since I can't leave you alone, well... get cozy, guys. I'll be back in a day or two." And with that, he drove off.
Sam and I stood there, watching the Impala kick up dust on it's way to the interstate. Then we looked at each other. I hiked my bag up on my shoulder. "Well" Sam said, turning towards the double doors that marked the entrance to the motel. "I guess we'd better get a room."
"You are telling me that you haven't the slightest idea where Miss Miles is?" The older British man asked Officer Brown again. Officer brown was scared. He was tied to a chair- chained to it, actually- and this man had been hitting him in the face for what seemed like hours.
"Nnnnn-no, sir." Officer Brown shook his head.
The man in the dark suit seemed to lighten a bit. "Ah, but where are my manners? We've been down here conversing for a while. I know your name, Tom Brown. Allow me to introduce myself." He stopped, turned, and looked at the scared cop. "Crowley, King of Hell. And I know you gave information to someone about this case, and I know you read that information as well."
"I-I think she went to her parent's house." Officer Brown said. Crowley glared at him, grabbed a small paring knife from the table beside the chair, and sliced a slow, deliberate cut down Tom Brown's cheek. Tom Brown peed a little in his pants.
"I know that. My six dead demons know that. Everyone knows that. Where did she go after? Who did you give the files to?" Crowley was getting very irritated. He could tell Officer Brown was not a tough person.
"He was tttttt-tall. Real tall." Officer Brown said finally. "Real tall. And his hair, his hair was kind of long."
"FBI Agent?" Crowley wasn't amused. He could see where this was headed.
Officer Brown nodded.
"Fucking Winchesters." Crowley turned, grabbed a large blade, and stabbed Officer Brown through the heart with it. "Always toying with my things."
A tall man with black eyes and olive skin walked in. He motioned for two lackeys to remove the body of Officer Brown. "Put it somewhere in his home." He told them, then turned to Crowley. "So the Winchesters have your Antichrist, then?" His voice was deep, almost comically so, if he hadn't been so large and grizzled looking.
Crowley was deep in thought. "It appears they do, yes. Only, Gary, for the last time, she's not an Antichrist. Oh no. She is most definitely not just an Antichrist"
Continued in the next Episode